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MAUDE    ADAMS 

Acting     Edition 

of 
ROMEO    AND    JULIET 


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MAUDE       ADAMS 

Acting    Edition 

Romeo  and  Juliet 

By 
William    Shakespeare 

With  drawings  by 

Ernest  Haskell  and  C.  Allan  Gilbert 

Published  with  the  authorization  of 

Charles   Frohman. 


R.  H.  RUSSELL 

j8gg 


Copyright,  1899,  by  Robert  Howard  Russell 


rioe  PERSONS  o///^^  Play 

T'he  cast  as  produced  at  the  Empire  'TheatrCy  New 
l^ork.  May  Sth,  /8pp. 

EscALUS,  prince  of  Verona  George  Fawcett 

Paris,  a  young  nobleman,  kinsman  to  the 

prince  Orr'in  Johnson 

Montague  "i  heads  of  two  houses  at  [  JV.  H.  Crompton 
Capulet  /  variance  with  each  other  |^  Eugene  Jepson 
An  Old  Man,  of  the  Capulet  family  Frederick  Spencer 

Romeo,  son  of  Montague  ff^ii/iam   Faversham 

Mercutio,  kinsman  to  the  prince,  and 

friend  to  Romeo  James  K.  Hackett 

Benvolio,    nephew    to    Montague,    and 


A'2. 


friend  to  Romeo 

Tybalt,  nephew  to  Lady  Capulet 

Friar  Laurence,  a  Franciscan 

Friar  John,  of  the  same  order 

Balthazar,  servant  to  Romeo 

Sampson     ^ 

^  /■  servants  to  Capulet 

Gregory  j 

Peter,  servant  to  Juliet's  nurse 

Abraham,  servant  to  Montague 

An  Apothecary 

Lady  Capulet,  wife  to  Capulet 

Juliet,  daughter  to  Capulet 


Jos.  Francoeur 

Campbell  Gollan 

TV.  H.  Thompson 

Geo.  Osborne^  Jr. 

G.  H:  Howard 

Wallace  Jackson 

Thomas  Valentine 

R.  Peyton  Carter 

George  Irving 

Norman  Campbell 

Miss  Helen  Morgan 

Miss  Maude  Adams 

Mrs.  W.  G.   Jones 


Nurse  to  Juliet 

Pages  to   Paris,  Mercutio,  Capulet,  etc.;   Citizens   of 

Verona,    Kinsfolk     of    both     Houses,    Maskers,    Guards, 

Musicians  and  Attendants. 


PERIOD— 1 4th  Century. 

Verona.    A  public  place. 
Before   Capulet's  house. 
Hall  in  Capulet's  house 
Capulet's  garden. 
Friar  Laurence's  cell. 
A  street. 


SCENE— Verona,  Mantua. 

The  FIRST  ACT  Scene  i 
Scene  2 
Scene  3 

Scene  4 

The  SECOND  ACT  Scene  i 
Scene  2 

Scene  3  Capulet's  garden. 

The  THIRD   ACT  Scene  i  Friar  Laurence's  cell. 

Scene  2  A  street. 

Scene  3  Friar  Laurence's  cell. 

The  FOURTH  ACT  Scene  i  Juliet's  chamber. 

Scene  2  Friar  Laurence's  cell. 

Scene  3  Juliet's  chamber. 

The  FIFTH  ACT  Scene  i  Mantua.  A  street. 

Scene  2  Verona.    A  churchyard. 

Scene  3  Tomb  of  the  Capulets. 

Produced  under  the  stage  direction  of  William  Seymour. 

Some  of  the  scenes  in  the  play  which  are  reproduced  in 
this  book  are  from  photographs  especially  taken  by  Sarony 
and  Joseph  Byron. 


rMiiriii'iairii'«i'' 


rHE  play  as  here  green  is  the  actual  act- 
ing version  arranged  by  Miss  ^dams, 
with    the  stage  directions  for   its   per- 
formance as  produced  by  her. 


y^:^^     ^^T^^' 


T 


ROMEO 
JULIE 

A  C  T  I 

Scene  I. — Verona.  A  Public  Place.  Sunday  morning. 
Various  groups  idling  and  gossiping.  Enter  Sampson 
and  Gregory,  of  the  house  of  Capulet,  with  swords 
and  bucklers^  R.  U.E.  through  Arch^  down   C. 

Sampson. 

REGORY,  on  my  word,  we'll  not  carry 
coals. 

Gregory. 

No,  for  then  we  should  be  colliers. 

Sampson. 

[Moving  with  swagger  to   R.]      I  strike  quickly,  being 

moved. 

Gregory. 

But  thou  art  not  quickly  moved  to  strike. 

Sampson. 
[Crossing  to   L.]      A   dog   of  the   house   of  Montague 
moves  me 


ROMEO    and  JULIET 

Gregory. 
To  move  is  to  stir,  and  to  be  valiant  is  to  stand:  there- 
fore if  thou  art  moved,  thou  runn'st  away. 
Sam  p  s  o  n. 
A  dog  of  that  house  shall  move  me  to  stand. 

Gregory. 
The  quarrel  is  betvi^een  our  masters  and  us  their  men. 

Sampson. 
'Tis  all  one.     I  '11  show  myself  a  tyrant! 

Gregory. 
\Looking  off  Z.]     Draw  thy  tool;  here  comes  two  of  the 
house  of  Montagues! 

Sampson. 
\Prawing — turns — theyi  retreats  to  R.  of  Gregory. '\      My 
naked  weapon  is  out;  quarrel,  I  will  back  thee. 

Gregory. 

How,  turn  thy  back  and  run? 

Sampson. 
\_Dr awing   Gregory  over  to   i?.]      Let  us  take  the  law  of 
our  sides;  let  them  begin. 

Gregory. 
I  will  frown  as  I  pass  by,  and  let  them  take  it  as  they  list. 
\^Enter  Balthasar  cWAbraham  L.  i  £.,  moving  up  toR.  C. 
Sampson. 
Nay,  as  they  dare.  I  will  bite  my  thumb  at  them;  which  is 
a  disgrace  to  them,  if  they  bear  it.      \_Crosses,  in  front.,  to  L. 
//.,  Gregory  following  him. 

A  B  R  A  H  A  M. 

\_Stops  C.  and  down  R.  C]      Do  you  bite  your  thumb  at 
us,  sir? 

lO 


ROMEO    a  71  d  JULIET 

Sampson. 
I  do  bite  my  thumb,  sir. 

Abraham. 
Do  you  bite  your  thumb  at  us,  sir.'' 

Sampson. 
\ Aside  to  Gregory?^      Is  the  law  of  our  side,  if  I  say  ay.? 

Gregory. 
No. 

Sampson. 
\_Stepping  towards  Abraham.]      No,  sir,  I  do  not  bite  my 
thumb  at  you,  sir,  but  I  bite  my  thumb,  sir.       [Moves  up  C. 

Gregory. 
[Following  him^stops  and  eyes  Abraham.]    Do  you  quarrel, 
sir.? 

Abraham. 
Quarrel,  sir!  No,  sir.  [Crosses  to  L. 

Sampson. 
[Swings  down  C]      If  you  do,  sir,  I  am  for  you;  I  serve 
as  good  a  man  as  you. 

[Enter  Benvolio  R.   U.  E.  with  Two  Servants. 

Abraham. 
No  better. 

Sampson. 
Well,  sir. 

Gregory. 
[Seeing  Tybalt  coming  L.   i  E.      Aside  to  Sampson.] 
Say  "better";  here  comes  one  of  my  master's  kinsmen. 
Sampson. 
[Crossing  to  Abraham.]      Yes,  better,  sir. 
II 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

Abraham. 
You  lie. 

Sampson. 

Draw,  if  you  be  men. — Gregory,  remember  thy  swashing 
blow.  [  They  fight. 

\Enter  Tybalt  L.  i.  E.  and  three  Capulet  Servants  who 
rush  up  and  attack  the  two  men  who  entered  with  Benvolio. 
B  E  N  V  o  L  I  o. 
[Returning   from    stairs^      Part,   fools! 
Put  up  your  swords;  you  know  not  what  you  do. 

\Beats  down  their  swords  and  goes  up  C. 

Tybalt. 
What,  art    thou    drawn    among    these   heartless   hinds? 
Turn  thee,  Benvolio,  look  upon  thy  death. 

Benvolio. 
I  do  but  keep  the  peace;  put  up  thy  sword, 
Or  manage  it  to  part  these  men  with  me. 

Tybalt. 
What,  drawn,  and  talk  of  peace!      I  hate  the  word, 
As  I  hate  hell,  all  Montagues,  and  thee: 
Have  at  thee,  coward! 

[They  fight  up  a  and  of  R.  J  E. 
\ Enter  Several  of  both  Houses  R.  and  L.  H.  who  join  the 
fray;  enter  Citizens.,  with  clubs. 

First   Citizen. 

Clubs,  bills,  and  partisans! 

Second   Citizen. 
Strike!  beat  them  down! 

Third   Citizen. 
Down  with  the  Capulets!  \_Jll  repeat  the  cries. 

12 


ROMEO    a  n  J  ]  V  L  I  ET 

Fourth  Citizen. 

Down  with  the  Montagues!  \_A  general  tumult. 

\_Enter  Capulet  R.^folloived  by  two  Pages  and  one  Ser- 
vant; and  enter  Montague,  Page  and  Servant^  Page  with 
sword  which  Montague  drazus  L.  i  E. 

Montague. 
\_Jdvancing  on  Capiilet.~\      Thou  villain  Capulet! 

\Re-enter  Benvolio;  down  C;  holds  Montague. 
Hold  me  not,  let  me  go. 

\L.  U.  on  balcony. 
^Enter  Prince  with  his  Trains/bur  Servants  from  L.  i  E. 
and  between  the  two  old  men  {long  staff's  for  servants^.      Officer 
and  Guards  on  from  L.  I  £.,  L.   U.  E.  and  R.   U.  E. 

Prince. 

[Z,.  J  E.  above  on  balcony. 
Rebellious  subjects,  enemies  to  peace, 
Profaners  of  this  neighbor-stained  steel, — 
Will  they  not  hear?     What,  ho!  you  men,  you  beasts, ' 
On  pain  of  torture,  from  those  bloody  hands 
Throw  your  mistemper'd  weapons  to  the  ground 
And  hear  the  sentence  of  your  moved  prince. 
Three  civil  brawls,  bred  of  an  airy  word. 
By  thee,  old  Capulet,  and  Montague, 
Have  thrice  disturb'd  the  quiet  of  our  streets, 
And  made  Verona's  ancient  citizens 
Cast  by  their  grave  beseeming  ornaments. 
To  wield  old  partisans,  in  hands  as  old; 
If  ever  you  disturb  our  streets  again. 
Your  lives  shall  pay  the  forfeit  of  the  peace. 
For  this  time,  all  the  rest  depart  away! 
[Prince  descends  stairs^  followed  by  Pages.      Crosses   to    C. 
You,  Capulet,  shall  go  along  with  me; 

13 


ROMEO    an^    JVhlET 

And,  Montague,  come  you  this  afternoon. 

To  know  our  farther  pleasure  in  this  case, 

To  old  Free-town,  our  common  judgment  place. 

Once  more,  on  pain  of  death,  all  men  depart. 

[  Trumpets  soimd^  L.  H.     Pages  advance  and  give  him  hat 

and  sword. 

\_Exeunt  C.  L.  all  hut  Montague  and  Benvolio.     Cap- 

ulet's  Pages  follotv  him.     Montague's  Page  gives  him  cane 

and  takes  sword. 

Montague. 

Who  set  this  ancient  quarrel  new  abroach? 
Speak,  nephew,  were  you  by  when  it  began? 

Benvolio. 
Here  were  the  servants  of  your  adversary 
And  yours  close  fighting  ere  I  did  approach. 

Montague. 
But  where  is  Romeo?  saw  you  him  to-day? 
Right  glad  I  am  he  was  not  at  this  fray. 

Benvolio. 
An  hour  before  the  worshipp'd  sun 
Peer'd  forth  the  golden  window  of  the  east, 
A  troubled  mind  drove  me  to  walk  abroad; 
Where,  underneath  the  grove  of  sycamore 
That  westv/ard  rooteth  from  the  city's  side. 
So  early  walking  did  I  see  your  son: 
Towards  him  I  made;  but  he  was  ware  of  me 
And  stole  into  the  covert  of  the  wood. 

Montague. 
Many  a  morning  hath  he  there  been  seen. 
With  tears  augmenting  the  fresh  morning's  dewj 
Black  and  portentous  must  this  humor  prove, 
Unless  good  counsel  may  the  cause  remove. 


ROMEO    and  JULIET 

Be  N  V  o  LI  0. 
My  noble  uncle,  do  you  know  the  cause? 

Montague. 
I  neither  know  it  nor  can  learn  of  him. 
Could  we  but  learn  from  whence  his  sorrows  grow, 
We  would  as  willingly  give  cure  as  know. 

B  E  N  V  o  L  I  o. 

\ Looking  off  R.  U.  E.'j      See,  where  he  comes;  so  please 

you,  step  aside; 
I  '11  know  his  grievance,  or  be  much  denied. 

Montague. 
I  would  thou  wert  so  happy  by  thy  stay, 
To  hear  true  shrift. 

[Exit  L.  I  E.  followed  by  Page  and  Servant. 

Benvolio. 
\ Enter  Romeo  R.  U.  £.]      Good  morrow,  cousin. 

Romeo. 
Is  the  day  so  young? 

Benvolio. 
But  new  struck  nine. 

Romeo. 

Ah  me!     Sad  hours  seem  long. 
Was  that  my  father  that  went  hence  so  fast? 

Benvolio. 
It  was.     What  sadness  lengthens  Romeo's  hours? 

Romeo. 
Not  having  that  which,  having,  makes  them  short. 

Benvolio. 
In  love? 

15 


ROMEO     and  J  U  L  lET 

Romeo. 
Out— 

B  E  N  V  O  L  I  O. 

Of  love? 

Romeo. 
Out  of  her  favor,  where  I  am  in  love. 
Benvolio. 

Alas,  that  love,  so  gentle  in  his  view, 
Should  be  so  tyrannous  and  rough  in  proof! 

Romeo. 
Alas,  that  love,  whose  view  is  muffled  still, 
Should  without  eyes  see  pathways  to  his  will! 
Where  shall  we  dine? — O  me!     What  fray  was  here? 
Yet  tell  me  not,  for  I  have  heard  it  all. 
Here  's  much  to  do  with  hate,  but  more  with  love. 
Why,  then,  O  brawling  love!      O  loving  hate! 
O  anything,  of  nothing  first  create! 
O  heavy  lightness!     Serious  vanity! 
Misshapen  chaos  of  well-seeming  forms! 
This  love  feel  I,  that  feel  no  love  in  this. 
Dost  thou  not  laugh? 

Benvolio. 

No,  coz,  I  rather  weep. 

Romeo. 
Good  heart,  at  what? 

Benvolio. 
At  thy  good  heart's  oppression. 

Romeo. 

Why,  such  is  love's  transgression. 

Griefs  of  mine  own  lie  heavy  in  my  breastj 

i6 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

Which  thou  wilt  propagate,  to  have  it  prest 

With  more  of  thine;  this  love,  that  thou  hast  shown, 

Doth  add  more  grief  to  too  much  of  mine  own. 

Love  is  a  smoke  raised  with  the  fume  of  sighs; 

Being  purged,  a  fire  sparkling  in  lovers'  eyes; 

Being  vexed,  a  sea  nourish'd  with  lovers'  tears; 

What  is  it  else?   a  madness  most  discreet, 

A  choking  gall  and  a  preserving  sweet. 

Farewell,  my  coz.  ^Going  R.  U.  E. 

B  E  N  V  o  L  I  o. 

Soft!  I  will  go  along! 
And  if  you  leave  me  so,  you  do  me  wrong. 

Rome  o. 
What,  shall  I  groan  and  tell  thee? 
Benvolio. 
Groan!   Why,  no;  but  sadly  tell  me  who. 

Romeo. 
In  sadness,  cousin,  I  do  love  a  woman. 

Benvolio. 
I  aimed  so  near  when  I  suppos'd  you  lov'd. 

Romeo. 
A  right  good  mark-man!      And  she's  fair  I  love. 

Benvolio. 
A  right  fair  mark,  fair  coz,  is  soonest  hit. 
Romeo. 

Well,  in  that  hit  you  miss;  she  '11  not  be  hit 
With  Cupid's  arrow;  she  hath  Dian's  wit. 
And,  in  strong  proof  of  chastity  well  arm'd. 
From  love's  weak  childish  bow  she  lives  unharm'd. 
She  hath  forsworn  to  love;  and  in  that  vow 

17 


ROMEO    ^«  ^JULIET 

Do  I  live  dead,  that  live  to  tell  it  now.  , 

Benvolio. 
Be  rul'd  by  me;  forget  to  think  of  her. 

Romeo. 
O,  teach  me  how  I  should  forget  to  think. 

Benvolio. 
By  giving  liberty  unto  thine  eyes; 
Examine  other  beauties. 

Romeo. 

'Tis  the  way 
To  call  hers  exquisite,  in  question  more. 
He  that  is  stricken  blind  cannot  forget 
The  precious  treasure  of  his  eyesight  lost. 
Show  me  a  mistress  that  is  passing  fair. 
What  doth  her  beauty  serve  but  as  a  note 
Where  I  may  read  who  pass'd  that  passing  fair? 
Farewell;  thou  can'st  not  teach  me  to  forget. 

Benvolio. 

I  '11  pay  that  doctrine,  or  else  die  in  debt. 

[  They  retire  R.  j  E. 
[Enter  Capulet,  and  tivo  Pages^  Paris   and  one  Page^ 
and  Peter,  L.  U.  E. 

Capulet. 

But  Montague  is  bound  as  well  as  I, 

In  penalty  alike;  and  'tis  not  hard,  I  think, 

For  men  so  old  as  we  to  keep  the  peace. 

Paris. 
Of  honorable  reckoning  are  you  both; 
And  pity  'tis  you  liv'd  at  odds  so  long. 
But  now,  my  lord,  what  say  you  to  my  suit? 

i8 


ROMEO    a  ?i  d  JULIET 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 

But  saying  o'er  what  I  have  said  before: 
My  child  is  yet  a  stranger  in  the  world; 
Let  two  more  summers  wither  in  their  pride, 
Ere  we  may  think  her  ripe  to  be  a  bride. 

Paris. 

Younger  than  she  are  happy  mothers  made. 

C  A  P  u  L  E  T. 

And  too  soon  marr'd  are  those  so  early  made. 

But  woo  her,  gentle  Paris,  get  her  heart, 

My  will  to  her  consent  is  but  a  part; 

This  night  I  hold  an  old  accustom'd  feast. 

Whereto  I  have  invited  many  a  guest 

Such  as  I  love;  and  you,  among  the  store 

One  more,  most  welcome,  makes  my  number  more. — 

Come,  go  with  me. 

[Paris  goes  up  to  his  Page  and  sends  him  off  R.  U.  E, 
\_To  Peter,  ivho  rises^  gi'^'i^g  ^  paper. 

Go,  sirrah,  trudge  about 
Through  fair  Verona;  find  those  persons  out 
Whose  names  are  written  there,  and  to  them  say 
My  house  and  welcome  on  their  pleasure  stay. 

\Exeunt  Capulet  and  Paris  R.  i  E.^  followed  by  two 
Capulet  Pages. 

Peter. 

Find  them  out  whose  names  are  written  here!  It  is 
written  that  the  shoemaker  should  meddle  with  his  y^i'd 
and  the  tailor  with  his  last,  the  fisher  with  his  pencil  and 
the  painter  with  his  nets;  but  I  am  sent  to  find  those  per- 
sons whose  names  are  here  writ,  and  can   never  find  what 

19 


ROMEO    a  n  ^   ]  V  L  I  ET 

names  the  writing  person  hath  here  writ.   I   must  to  the 

learned. — In  good  time.  [^Moves  to  R.  C. 

[Romeo  and  Benvolio  come  forward  R.   U.  E   through 
Arch  down  L.  C. 

Benvolio. 

Tut,  man,  one  fire  burns  out  another's  burning, 
One  pain  is  lessen'd  by  another's  anguish; 
Take  thou  some  new  infection  to  thy  eye, 
And  the  rank  poison  of  the  old  will  die. 
Romeo. 

[To  Peter,  ivho  is  bowing  R.~\      God-den,  good  fellow. 

\^Crossing  to  Peter  C. 

Peter. 
God  gi'  good-den — I  pray,  sir,  can  you  read? 

Romeo. 
Ay,  mine  own  fortune  in  my  misery. 

Peter. 
Perhaps  you  have  learned  it  without  book:  but  I  pray,  can 
you  read  anything  you  see? 

Romeo. 
Ay,  if  I  know  the  letters  and  the  language. 

Peter. 
Ye  say  honestly;  rest  you  merry!  \Jbout  to  go  up  C. 

Romeo. 

Stay,  fellow;  I  can  read.      [Peter  gives  scroll  to  Romeo. 

[Reads. 

*Signior  Martino  and  his  wife  and    daughters;    County 

Anselme  and  his  beauteous  sisters;  the  lady  widow  of  Vit- 

ruvio;  Signior  Placentio  and  his  lovelv  nieces;  Mercutio  and 

his  brother  Valentine;  mine  uncle  Capulet,  his  wife,  and 

20 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

daughters;  my  fair  niece  Rosaline;  Livia;  Signior  Valentio 
and  his  cousin  Tybalt;  Lucio  and  the  lively  Helena.' 
A  fair  assembly;  whither  should  they  come? 

Peter. 
Up. 

Rome  o. 
Whither? 

P  E  T  E  R. 

To  supper;  to  our  house. 

Romeo. 


Whose  house? 
My  master's. 


Peter. 


Romeo. 


Indeed,  I  should  have  ask'd  you  that  before. 
Peter. 

Now  I  '11  tell  you  without  asking;  my  master  is  the  great 

rich  Capulet;  and  if  you  be  not  of  the  house  of  Montagues, 

I  pray,  come  and  crush  a  cup  of  wine.      Rest  you  merry! 

[^Exit  C.  to  L. 
Benvolio. 

At  this  same  ancient  feast  of  CapuJet's 
Sups  the  fair  Rosaline  whom  thou  so  lov'st, 
With  all  the  admired  beauties  of  Verona. 
Go  thither,  and  with  unattainted  eye 
Compare  her  face  with  some  that  I  shall  show, 
And  I  will  make  thee  think  thy  swan  a  crow. 

Romeo. 
When  the  devout  religion  of  mine  eye 
Maintains  such  falsehood,  then  turn  tears  to  fires; 
One  fairer  than  my  love!  the  all-seeing  sun 
21 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

Ne'er  saw  her  match  since  first  the  world  begun. 

Benvolio. 
Tut!  you  saw  her  fair,  none  else  being  by, 
Herself  pois'd  with  herself  in  either  eye; 
But  in  that  crystal  scales  let  there  be  weigh'd 
Your  lady's  love  against  some  other  maid 
That  I  will  show  you  shining  at  this  feast, 
And  she  shall  scant  show  well  that  now  shows  best. 

Romeo. 
I  '11  go  along,  no  such  sight  to  be  shown. 
But  to  rejoice  in  splendor  of  mine  own. 

\^Exeunt  R.  J  E. 

Scene  II. — Moonlight.  Music  outside  (^supposed  to  he  in 
house.)  A  street  adjoining  Capulet's  house.  Sunday: 
at  night.  Enter  Benvolio,  Mercutio,  Romeo, 
R.  I  E.  xvith  five  or  six  Maskers^  Torch-bearers  and 
Musicians. 

Romeo. 

TR.  //,]      What,   shall    this    speech    be   spoke   for   our 

excuse? 
Or  shall  we  on  without  apology? 
Benvolio. 

\R.  C]      The  date  is  out  of  such  prolixity. 
We  '11  have  no  Cupid  hoodwink'd  with  a  scarf; 
But  let  them  measure  us  by  what  they  will. 
We'll  measure  them  a  measure,  and  be  gone. 

Romeo. 

Give  me  a  torch;  I  am  not  for  this  ambling: 
Being  but  heavy,  I  will  bear  the  light. 
22 


ROMEO    an  J   JULIET 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

^Down  C]  Nay,  gentle  Romeo,  we  must  have  you  dance. 

Romeo. 
Not  I,  believe  me.     You  have  dancing  shoes 
With  nimble  soles;  I  have  a  soul  of  lead. 
So  stakes  me  to  the  ground  I  cannot  move. 

^Sits  on  bench  R.  C. 
M  E  R  c  u  T  I  o. 
You  are  a  lover;  borrow  Cupid's  wings. 
And  soar  with  them  above  a  common  bound. 

Romeo. 
I  am  too  sore  enpierced  with  his  shaft 
To  soar  with  his  light  feathers,  and,  so  bound, 
I  cannot  bound  a  pitch  above  dull  woe; 
Under  love's  heavy  burthen  do  I  sink. 

M  E  R  c  u  T  I  o. 
Give  me  a  case  to  put  my  visage  in. 

^Putting  on  mask  that  Servant  hands  him. 
A  visor  for  a  visor!  what  care  I 
What  curious  eye  doth  quote  deformities? 
Here  are  the  beetle-brows  shall  blush  for  me. 

^A  pa7-ty  of  Guests  enter  L.  I  E.  and  Exeunt  C.  to  L. 
Benvolio. 
Come  knock  and  enter;  and  no  sooner  in. 
But  every   man  betake  him  to  his  legs. 

\_Crossing  up^  and  behind^  to  R.  C. 

Romeo. 
A  torch  for  me! 

I  '11  be  a  candle-holder,  and  look  on. 
M  e  R  c  u  T  lo. 
Come,  we  burn  davlight,  ho. 

23 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

Romeo. 
Nay,  that 's  not  so. 

M  E  R  c  u  T  I  o 
I  mean,  sir,  in  delay. 
We  waste  our  lights  in  vain,  like  lamps  by  day. 
Take  our  good  meaning,  for  our  judgment  sits 
Five  times  in  that  ere  once  in  our  five  wits. 

Romeo. 
And  we  mean  well,  in  going  to  this  mask; 
But  'tis  no  wit  to  go, 

Mercutio. 

Why,  m.ay  one  ask? 
Romeo. 
I  dreamt  a  dream  to-night. 

Mercutio. 

And  so  did  I. 
Romeo. 
Well,  what  was  yours? 

Mercutio. 

That  dreamers  often  lie. 
Romeo. 
In  bed  asleep,  while  they  do  dream  things  true, 

[Benvolio  gets  L.  H. 
Mercutio. 
O,  then,  I  see  Queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you. 
She  is  the  fairies'  midwife,  and  she  comes 
In  shape  no  bigger  than  an  agate-stone 
On  the  fore-finger  of  an  alderman. 
Drawn  with  a  team  of  little  atomics 
Athwart  men's  noses  as  they  lie  asleep; 

24 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

Her  wagon-spokes  made  of  long  spinners'  legs, 

The  cover  of  the  wings  of  grasshoppers, 

The  traces  of  the  smallest  spider's  web, 

The  collars  of  the  moonshine's  watery  beams. 

Her  whip  of  cricket's  bone;  the  lash  of  film; 

Her  waggoner  a  small  grey-coated  gnat. 

Not  half  so  big  as  a  round  little  worm 

Prick'd  from  the  lazy  finger  of  a  maid; 

Her  chariot  is  an  empty  hazel-nut 

Made  by  the  joiner  squirrel  or  old  grub, 

Time  out  o'  mind  the  fairies'  coachmakers. 

And  in  this  state  she  gallops  night  by  night 

Through  lovers'  brains,  and  then  they  dream  of  love; 

O'er  courtiers'  knees,  that  dream  on  court'sies  straight; 

O'er  lawyers'  fingers,  who  straight  dream  on  fees; 

O'er  ladies'  lips,  who  straight  on  kisses  dream: 

Sometime  she  gallops  o'er  a  courtier's  nose. 

And  then  dreams  he  of  smelling  out  a  suit; 

And  sometime  comes  she  with  a  tithe-pig's  tall 

Tickling  a  parson's  nose  as  a'  lies  asleep. 

Then  dreams  he  of  another  benefice. 

Sometime  she  driveth  o'er  a  soldier's  neck. 

And  then  dreams  he  of  cutting  foreign  throats. 

Of  breaches,  ambuscadoes,  Spanish  blades, 

Of  healths  five  fathom  deep;  and  then  anon 

Drums  in  his  ear,  at  which  he  starts  and  wakes, 

And  being  thus  frighted  swears  a  prayer  or  two 

And  sleeps  again.     This  is  that  very  Mab 

Romeo. 

^^RisesJ]      Peace,  peace,  Mercutio,  peace! 
Thou  talk'st  of  nothing. 

\_Servant  speaks  to  BenvoLIO  up  C 

25 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

True,  I  talk  of  dreams, 
Which  are  the  children  of  an  idle  brain. 
Begot  of  nothing  but  vain  fantasy. 
Which  is  as  thin  of  substance  as  the  air, 
And  more  inconstant  than  the  wind. 

B  E  N  V  o  L  I  o. 

This  wind  you  talk  of  blows  us   from  ourselves; 
Supper  is  done,  and  we  shall  come  too  late. 

Romeo. 

I  fear,  too  early;  for  my  mind  misgives 

Some  consequence,  yet  hanging  in  the  stars, 

Shall  bitterly  begin  his  fearful  date 

With  this  night's  revels: 

But  He  that  hath  the  steerage  of  my  course 

Direct  my  sail! — On,  lusty  gentlemen. 

B  E  N  V  o  L  I  o. 

Strike,  drum. 

\JLxeunt  C.  to  L.^  followed  by  Servants  and  Afusicians. 

Scene  III. — y/  room  in  Capulet's  house.  Sunday.  Samp- 
son, Peter  and  other  Servants  discovered.  Enter 
Gregory  L.  2  E. 

Gregory. 

Where  's  Potpan,  that   he  helps  not   to  take  away?      He 
shift  a  trencher!  he  scrape  a  trencher! 

Peter. 

When  good  manners  shall  lie  all  in   one  or  two  men's 
hands,  and  they  unwashed,  too,  'tis  a  foul  thing. 

26 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 

Gregory. 
Away  with  the  joint  stools,  remove  the  court  cupboard. 
[Sampson  aiul  Servants    do  so  ojf'  R.    U.    £.]      Look    to 
the  plate. 

Peter. 
[  To  Serving  Alan  who  is  crossing  from  R.  U.  E.to  L.i  E. 
Good  thou,  save  me  a  piece  of  marchpane;  and,  as  thou 
lovest  me,  let  the  porter  let  in  Susan  Grindstone  and  Nell. 
Gregory. 
^Calling  off  R.  and  Z.J      Antony  and  Potpan! 

Serving  Man. 
[Entering  L.   U.  £.]      Ay,  boy,  ready.  \_Down  C. 

Gregory. 
You  are  looked  for  and  called  for,  asked  for  and  sought 
for,  in  the  great  chamber.      [Crossifig  to  L.  and  exit  L.  i  E. 
We  cannot  be  here,  and  there,  too. 

[Exit  L.  I  E.  followed  by  other  Servants. 

Cheerly,  boys;  be  brisk  awhile,  and  the  longer  liver  take 

all.  [Exit  R.  U.  E. 

[Enter  Lady  Capulet  and  Nurse  L.  i  E. 

Lady   Capulet. 

Nurse,  where  's  my  daughter?  Call  her  forth  to  me. 

[Crosses  to  window  R.  i  E. 
Nurse. 
I  bade  her  come. — What,  lamb!  what,  [Calling  off  L.   i 

£.]  lady-bird!— 
God  forbid!      Where's  this  girl?      What,  Juliet! 

[Calling  upstairs  R. 
Juliet. 
[From  Garden   L.    U.    E.  within.']       How    now!      W^ho 
calls? 

27 


ROMEO    and   JULIET 


leave  awhile 

We    must    talk   In   secret 


[Lady  Capulet  turns  from  ivindoiu. 
Nurse. 

Your  mother. 
Juliet. 
[Entering  R.  U.  E.'j  Madam,  I  am  here. 

What  is  your  will? 

Lady  Capulet. 
\_Comlng  to  Juliet.]       This  is  the  matter:     Nurse,  give 

[Nurse  turns  away. 
Nurse,   come   back   again. 
[Nurse  returns. 
I  have  remembered  me,  thou  's  hear  our  counsel. 
Thou  know'st  my  daughter  's  of  a  pretty  age. 

[Sitt'mg  on  dais  R, 
Nurse. 
Faith,  I  can  tell  her  age  unto  an  hour. 
Lady   Capulet. 
She  's  not  sixteen. 

Nurse. 

How  long  is  it  now 
To  Lammas-tide? 

Lady  Capulet. 

A  fortnight  and  odd  days. 

Nurse. 

Even  or  odd,  of  all  days  in  the  year, 
Come  Lammas-eve  at  night  shall  she  be  sixteen. 
Susan  and  she — God  rest  all  Christian  souls! — 
Were  of  an  age.      Well,  Susan  is  with  God; 
She  was  too  good  for  mc: — but,  as  I  said. 
On  Lammas-eve  at  night  shall  she  be  sixteenj 
28 


ROMEO    a?iJ]ULlEr 

'Tis  since  the  earthquake  now  eleven  years, 
My  lord  and  you  were  then  at  Mantuaj 
Nay,  I  do  bear  a  brain — but,  as  I  said 

Lady   Capulet. 
Enough  of  this!      I  pray  thee  hold  thy  peace. 

Nurse. 
Peace,  I  have  done!  God  mark  thee  to  his  grace! 
Thou  wast  the  prettiest  babe  that  e'er  I  nurs'd; 
An  I  might  live  to  see  thee  married  once, 
I  have  my  wish.  [^Aloves  away  a  little. 

LadyCapulet. 
Marry,  that  "marry"  is  the  very  theme 
I  came  to  talk  of. — Tell  me,  daughter  Juliet, 
How  stands  your  disposition  to  be  married? 
Juliet. 

It  is  an  honour  that  I  dream  not  of. 

Lady  Capulet. 
Well,  think  of  marriage  now;  younger  than  you 
Here  in  Verona,  ladies  of  esteem. 
Are  made  already  mothers:  by  my  count, 
I  was  your  mother  much  upon  these  years 
That  you  are  now  a  maid.     Thus  then  in  brief: 
The  valiant  Paris  seeks  you  for  his  love. 

Nurse. 
\^Down  L.  o/" Juliet.]      A  man,  young  lady!  lady,  such 
a  man. 


Lady   Capulet. 

Verona's  summer  hath  not  such  a  flower. 

Nurse. 

Nav,  he  's  a  flower;  in  faith,  a  very  flower. 

29 

: —  ■ 

V 

ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Lady  Capulet. 

What  say  you  ?   can  you  love  the  gentleman  ? 
Speak  briefly,  can  you  like  of  Paris'  love  ? 

Juliet. 

I  '11  look  to  like,  if  looking  liking  move  ; 
But  no  more  deep  will  I  endart  mine  eye 
Than  your  consent  gives  strength  to  make  it  fly. 

\_Enter   Guests,  L.    U.  E.      Enter  Capulet, 
Paris  and  Guests,    L.   I   E. 

Capulet. 

Welcome,  gentlemen  !  ladies  that  have  their  toes 
Unplagu'd  with  corns  will  have  a  bout  with  you, — ■ 
Ah  ha,  my  mistresses  !    which  of  you  all 
Will  now  deny  to  dance  ?  she  that  makes  dainty. 
She,  I  '11  swear  hath  corns ;  am  I  come  near  ye  now  ? 

^Enter  Romeo,    Me'rcutio   and  Benvolio    L, 
Welcome,  gentlemen  !      1  have  seen  the  day 
That  I  have  worn  a  visor,  and  could  tell 
A  whispering  talc  in  a  fair  lady's  ear. 
Such  as  would  please  ;   'tis  gone,  'tis  gone,  'tis  gone. 
You  are  welcome,  gentlemen  !     Come,  musicians,  play — 
A  hall,  a  hall  !  give  room  !   and  foot  it,  girls — 

\_Mustc   phi'^s ;     dance;    Capulet    upon    dais   beside 
Lady  Capulet. 
More  light,  you  knaves  !   and  turn  the  tables  up  ; 
And  quench  the  fire,  the  room  has  grown  too  hot. 
[Ts    Old    Capulet.]       Ah,    sirrah,    this    unlooked-for    sport 

comes  well. 

[Old  Capulet  seated,  rises  to   Capulet. 

Nay,  sit,  nay,  sit,  good  cousin  Capulet  ; 

For  you  and  I  are  past  our  dancing  days  ; 

How  long  is  't  now  since  last  yourself  and  I 

30 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Were  in  a  mask  ? 

Old  Capulet. 

By  'r  Lady,  thirty  years. 

Capulet. 

What,  man  !  'tis  not  so  much, 
Come  Pentecost  as  quickly  as  it  will. 
Some  five  and  twenty  years. 

Old   Capulet, 

'Tis  more,  'tis  more. 

[Capulet  and  Old  Capulet  move  up  L.  H. 

Romeo. 

lEnter  Serving  Man  L.  I  E.,  crossing  to  R.    To  a  Serving  Man. 
What  lady  is  that,  which  doth  enrich  the  hand 
Of  yonder  knight  ? 

Serving    Man. 

I  know  not,  sir.    [C//>  to  L.  of  C.  and  speaks  to  Lady  Capulet. 
Tybalt  enters  L.  U.  E.  and  passes,  at  back,  to  Lady  Capulet. 

Romeo. 

O,  she  doth  teach  the  torches  to  burn  bright  ! 
It  seems  she  hangs  upon  the  cheek  of  night 
Like  a  rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiop's  ear  ; 
Beauty  too  rich  for  use,  for  earth  too  dear! 
The  measure  done,  I  '11  watch  her  place  of  stand. 
And,  touching  hers,  make  blessed  my  rude  hand. 
Did  my  heart  love  till  now  ?  Forswear  it,  sight! 
For  I  ne'er  saw  true  beauty  till  this  night. 

[Old  Capulet  up  with  Capulet. 

31 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Tybalt. 
\^Down  L.   C,  followed  by  Serving  Man.']      This,  by  his  voice, 

should  be  a  Montague  ; — 
Fetch  me  mv  rapier,  boy.         ^Servant  crosses  and  exit  L.  I  E. 

What,  dares  the  slave 
Come  hither,  covered  with  an  antic  face. 
To  fleer  and  scorn  at  our  solemnity  ? 
Now,  by  the  stock  and  honour  of  my  kin. 
To  strike  him  dead  I  hold  it  not  a  sin. 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 

\Dozvn  L.  ij/' Tybalt.]     Why,  how  now,  kinsman!  wherefore 

storm  you  so  ? 

Tybalt. 

Uncle,  this  is  a  Montague,  our  foe, 

A  villain  that  is  hither  come  in  spite. 

To  scorn  at  our  solemnity  this  night. 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 
Young  Romeo,  is  it  ^ 

Tybalt. 

'Tis  he,  that  villain  Romeo. 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 

Content  thee,  gentle  coz,  let  him  alone  : 
He  bears  him  like  a  portly  gentleman  ; 
And,  to  say  truth,  Verona  brags  of  him 
To  be  a  virtuous  and  well-govern' d  youth. 
I  would  not  for  the  wealth  of  all  the  town 
Here  in  my  house  do  him  disparagement ; 
Therefore,  be  patient,  take  no  note  of  him  : 

3^ 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

It  is  my  will,  the  which  if  thou  respect. 
Show  a  fair  presence  and  put  off  these  frowns. 
An  ill-beseeming  semblance  for  a  feast. 

Tybalt. 

It  iits,  when  such  a  villain  is  a  guest  ; 
I  'II  not  endure  him. 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 
He  shall  be  endur'd  : 
What,  goodman  boy!      I  say,  he  shall  :   go  to  ; 
Am  I  the  master  here,  or  you  ?     Go  to. 

Tybalt. 

Why,  uncle,  'tis  a  shame. 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 

Go  to,  go  to  ; 
You  are  a  saucy  boy  : — 

Be  quiet  or—     {^Crosses  to  L.  i  E.  and  calls  of.]      More  light, 
more   light—  ^T^en  returns  to  Tybalt. 

For  shame  I  '11  make  you  quiet. 

— What  !      {Crosses   to    C.   as   dance  finishes. ]      Cheerly,   my 
hearts ! 

Tybalt. 

Patience  perforce  with  wilful  choler  meeting 
Makes  my  flesh  tremble  in  their  different  greeting. 
I  will  withdraw  ;  but  this  intrusion  shall. 
Now  seeming  sweet,  convert  to  bitter  gall. 

{Exit  L.  I  E.      Every  one  up  stage,  Juliet  at  window  L. 

Romeo. 

[Z.    of  Juliet.      To   Juliet.]      If  I    profane    with    my    un- 
worthiest  hand 

33 


i 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

This  holy  shrine,  the  gentle  line  is  this  : 
My  lips,  two  blushing  pilgrims,  ready  stand 
To  smooth  that  rough  touch  with  a  tender  kiss. 

Juliet. 

Good  pilgrim,  you  do  wrong  your  hand  too  much. 
Which  mannerly  devotion  shows  in  this  ; 
For  saints  have  hands  that  pilgrims'  hands  do  touch. 
And  palm  to  palm  is  holy  palmer's  kiss. 

Romeo. 

Have  not  saints  lips,  and  holy  palmers  too  ? 

Juliet. 

Av,  pilgrim,  lips  that  they  must  use  in  prayer. 

Romeo. 

O,  then,  dear  saint,  let  lips  do  what  hands  do  ; 
They  prav,  grant  thou,  lest  faith  turn  to  despair. 

Juliet. 

Saints  do  not  move,  though  grant  for  prayers'  sake. 

Romeo. 

Then  move  not,  while  my  prayer's  effect  I  take.       \_Ki5ses  her. 
Thus  from  my  lips  by  thine  my  sin  is  purg'd. 

Juliet. 

Then  have  my  lips  the  sin  that  they  have  took. 

Romeo. 

Sin  from  my  lips  ?      O  trespass  sweetly  urg'd  ! 
Give  me  my  sin  again. 

34 


ROMEO     ajid    JULIET 

Juliet. 

You  kiss  by  the  book. 

Nurse. 

\Down  L.   C]     Madam,  your  mother  craves  a  word  with  you. 
[Juliet  crosses  between  Nurse  a7id  Romeo  and  up  C. 

Romeo. 

[Stopping  Nurse,  wbo  is  about  to  follow  Juliet.]      What  is  her 

mother  ? 

Nurse. 

Marry,  bachelor. 
Her  mother  is  the  lady  of  the  house. 
And  a  good  lady,  and  a  wise;  and  a  virtuous. 
I  nurs'd  her  daughter,  that  you  talked  withal ; 
I  tell  you,  he  that  can  lay  hold  of  her 
Shall  have  the  chinks. 

Romeo. 

Is  she  a  Capulet  ?      [Nurse  nods  and  up  C. 
O  dear  account  !  my  life  is  my  foe's  debt. 
[Second  dance  begins. 

B  E  N  V  O  L  I  O. 

[Down  R.  ^RoMEc]    Away,  begone  ;  the  sport  is  at  the  best. 

Romeo. 

Ay,    so    I    fear  ;   the    more    is    my   unrest.       [Up   stage  with 
Mercutio  and  Benvolio. 

Capulet. 

[L.   C.  when  dance  over. 
Nay,  gentlemen,  prepare  not  to  be  gone  ; 
We  have  a  trifling  foolish  banquet  towards. 

35 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

It  is  e'en  so  ?   whv,  then  I  thank  you  all  : 

I  thank  you,  honest  gentlemen  ;  good  night. 

More   torches   here  !      \Gue5ts  all  exeunt. ~\      Come   on  then, 

let  's  to  bed.  [L.   U.  E. 

Ah,  sirrah,  bv  my  fay,  it  waxes  late 
I  'II  to  my  rest. 

\_Exit  L-ADY  Capulet,  Old  Capulet  and  Capulet, 
L.  I  E.  Lower  lights.  Juliet  and  Nurse  C.,  re- 
enter Mercutio  and  Benvolio.     Romeo  down  L.  H. 

Juliet. 
Come  hither.  Nurse.      What  is  yond  gentleman  ? 

\_Exit  Benvolio  L.   U.   E. 

Nurse. 

^R.  of  her. '^      The  son  and  heir  of  old  Tiberio, 

Juliet. 

[^.  C]      What  's  he  that  now  is  going  out  of  door  ? 

\_Exit  Mercutio  L.   U.  E. 
Nurse. 

Marry,  that,  I  think,  be  young  Petruchio. 

Juliet. 

What  's  he  that  fellow  there,  that  would  not   dance  ? 

\_Exit  Romeo  L.   U.  E. 

Nurse. 

I  know  not. 

Juliet. 
[C]      Go  ask  his  name. 

[Nurse  crosses  in  front.      Exit  L.   U.  E. 
If  he  be  married. 
My  grave  is  like  to  be  mv  wedding  bed. 

36 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Nurse. 

^Re-enters  and  down  L.  C. 
\_Returns  L.  ^Juliet.]  His  name  is  Romeo,  and  a  Montague, 
The  onlv  son  of  your  great  enemy. 

Juliet. 
[iJ.   C]      My  only  love  sprung  from  my  only  hate  ! 
Too  early  seen  unknown,  and  known  too  late  ! 
Prodigious  birth  of  love  it  is  to  me 
That  I  must  love  a  loathed  enemy. 

Nurse. 

[C.  Z.]      What  's  this?      What  's  this  ? 

Juliet. 

A  rhyme  I  learn' d  even  now 
Of  one  I  danc'd  withal. 

[Lady  Capulet  calls  Juliet  within  L. 

Nurse. 

Anon,   anon  ! 
Come  let  's  away  ;   the  strangers  all  are  gone. 
[Juliet  and  Nurse  C.     Juliet  up  to  stairs.      Nurse  stands   C. 

Scene  IV. — Moonlight.  Capulet' s  Orchard  {Same  as  Balcony 
Scene').  Late  Sunday  night,  or  early  Monday  morning. 
Enter  Romeo   R.   U.  E.  to  Gateway  C. 

B  E  N  V  O  L  I  O. 
[Outside.']      Romeo!  Romeo! 

Romeo. 

[Jt  Gateway    R.    C]      Can    I   go  forward  when  my  heart  is 
here  ? 

37 


ROMEO     atid    JULIET 

Turn  back,  dull  earth,  and  find   thy    centre  out.       \^He  climbs 
the  wall,  and  leaps  dow7i  within  it  L.   C] 

Benvolio. 

\ Calls  outside  R.    U.  £.]      Romeo!  my  cousin  Romeo! 
\_Entering  R.   U.  E.  at  gateway. 
Romeo! 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

^Entering  R.   U.  E.'\      He  is  wise; 

And,   on  my  life,  hath  stol  'n  him  home  to  bed. 

Benvolio. 

He  ran  this  way,  and  leap'd  this  orchard  wall; 
Call,  good  Mercutio. 

Mercutio. 

Nav,  I  '11  conjure  too. — 
Romeo!  humours!  madman!  passion!  lover! 
Appear  thou  in  the  likeness  of  a  sigh ! 
Speak  but  one  rhyme,  and  I  am  satisfied; 
Cry  but  *<  Ay  me!"  pronounce  but  "love"  and  "dove;" 
Speak  to  my  gossip  Venus  one  fair  word. 
One  nickname  for  her  purblind  son  and  heir! 
He  heareth  not,  he  stirreth  not,  he  moveth  not; 
The  ape  is  dead,  and  I  must  conjure  him. 
I  conjure  thee  by  Rosaline's  bright  eyes. 
By  her  high  forehead  and  her  scarlet  lip. 
That  in  thy  likeness  thou  appear  to  us! 

Benvolio. 

An  if  he  hear  thee,  thou  wilt  anger  him. 

38 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

This  cannot  anger  him;  my  invocation 

Is  fair  and  honest  and  in  his  mistress'  name 

I  conjure  only  but  to  raise  up  him. 

B  E  N  VO  L  I  O. 

Come,  he  hath  hid  himself  among  these  trees. 
To  be  consorted  with  the  humorous  night; 
Blind  is  his  love  and  best  befits  the  dark. 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

Romeo,  good  night — I  Ml  to  my  truckly-bed; 
This  field-bed  is  too  cold  for  me  to  sleep. 
Come,  shall  we  go  ? 

Benvolio. 

Go,  then;  for  'tis  in  vain 
To  seek  him  here  that   means   not  to  be  found.      Good  night, 
Romeo.  \Exeunt  R.  U.  E. 

\^Re-enter  Romeo,  inside  wall,  L.  C. 

Romeo. 

[Speaking   after   them.~\      He  jests   at   scars   that   never  felt  a 

wound — 

\_Light  appears  through  curtains  above  at  window  L.  2.  E. 

But,  soft!  what  light  through  yonder  window  breaks  ? 

It  is  the  east  and  Juliet  is  the  sun — 

Arise,  fair  sun,  and  kill  the  envious  moon. 

Who  is  already  sick  and  pale  with  grief. 

That  thou  her  maid  art  far  more  fair  than  she. 

[Juliet  enters  on  balcony  L. 
It  /'/  my  lady,  O,  it  is  my  love! 

O,  that  she  knew  she  were! — 

39 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

She  speaks,  yet  she  says  nothing  ;  what  of  that  ? 
Her  eye  discourses  ;  I  will  answer  it. 
I  am  too  bold,  'tis  not  to  me  she  speaks. 
Two  of  the  fairest  stars  in  all  the  heaven. 
Having  some  business,  do  entreat  her  eyes 
To  twinkle  in  their  spheres  till  they  return. 
What  if  her  eyes  were  there,  they  in  her  head  ? 
The  brightness  of  her  cheek  w'ould  shame  those  stars. 
As  daylight  doth  a  lamp  ;  her  eyes  in  heaven 
Would  through  the  airy  region  stream  so  bright 
That  birds  would  sing  and  think  it  were  not  night. 
See,  how  she  leans  her  cheek  upon  her  hand  ! 
O,  that  I  were  a  glove  upon  that  hand. 
That  I  might  touch  that  cheek  ! 

Juliet. 

Ay  me  ! 

Romeo. 

She  speaks. — 
O,  speak  again,  bright  angel !  for  thou  art 

As  glorious  to  this  night,  being  o'er  my  head. 

As  is  a  winged  messenger  of  heaven 

Unto  the  white-upturned  wondering  eyes 

Of  mortals  that  fall  back  to  gaze  on  him. 

When  he  bestrides  the  lazy-pacing  clouds 

And  sails  upon  the  bosom  of  the  air. 

Juliet. 
O  Romeo,  Romeo  !   wherefore  art  thou  Romeo  ? 
Deny  thy  father  and  refuse  thy  name  ; 
Or,  if  you  \\\\i  not,  be  but  sworn  my  love. 
And  I  '11  no  longer  be  a  Capulet. 

40 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Rom  e  o. 

^^AsideJ^     Shall  I  hear  more,  or  shall  I  speak  at  this  ? 

Juliet. 

'Tis  but  thy  name  that  is  my  enemy  ; 
Thou  art  thyself,  though  not  a  Montague. 
What  's  in  a  name  ?  that  which  we  call  a  rose 
By  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet  ; 
So  Romeo  would,  were  he  not  Romeo  call'd. 
Retain  that  dear  perfection  which  he  owes 
Without  that  title. — Romeo,  doff"  thy  name. 
And  for  that  name,  which  is  no  part  of  thee. 
Take  all  myself. 

Romeo. 

[Advancing  C]      I  take  thee  at  thy  word. 

Juliet. 

What  man  art  thou  that  thus  bescreen'd  in  night 
So  stumblest  on  my  counsel  ? 

Romeo. 

By  a  name 
I  know  not  how  to  tell  thee  who  I  am. 
My  name,  dear  saint,  is  hateful  to  myself. 
Because  it  is  an  enemy  to  thee. 

Juliet. 
My  ears  have  yet  not  drunk  a  hundred  words 
Of  that  tongue's  uttering,  yet  I  know  the  sound. — 
Art  thou  not  Romeo,  and  a  Montague  ? 

Romeo. 

Neither,  fair  maid,  if  either  thee  dislike. 

41 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Juliet. 

How  cam' St  thou  hither,  tell  me,  and  wherefore? 
The  orchard  walls  are  high  and  hard  to  climb. 
And  the  place  death,  considering  who  thou  art. 
If  any  of  my  kinsmen  find  thee  here. 

Romeo. 

With  love's  light  wings  did  I  o'er-perch  these  walls. 
For  stony  limits  cannot  hold  love  out ; 
And  what  love  can  do,  that  dares  love  attempt. 
Therefore  thy  kinsmen  are  no  let  to  me. 

Juliet. 

If  they  do  see  thee,  they  will  murther  thee. 

Romeo. 

Alack,  there  lies  more  peril  in  thine  eye 

Than  twenty  of  their  swords ;  look  thou  but  sweet. 

And  I  am  proof  against  their  enmity. 

Juliet. 

I  would  not  for  the  world  they  saw  thee  here. 

Romeo. 

I  have  night's  cloak  to  hide  me  from  their  eyes ; 
And  but  thou  love  me,  let  them  find  me  here  ; 
My  life  were  better  ended  by  their  hate. 
Than  death  prorogued,  wanting  of  thy  love. 

Juliet. 
By  whose  direction  founds' t  thou  out  this  place? 

42 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Romeo. 

Bv  love,  that  first  did  prompt  me  to  inquire  ; 

He  lent  me  counsel,  and  I  lent  him  eyes. 

I  am  no  pilot  ;  yet,  wert  thou  as  far 

As  that  vast  shore  wash'd  with  the  farthest  sea, 

I  would  adventure  for  such  merchandise. 

Juliet. 

Thou  know'st  the  mask  of  night  is  on  my  face. 

Else  would  a  maiden  blush  bepaint  my  cheek 

For  that  which  thou  hast  heard  me  speak  to-night. 

Fain  would  I  dwell  on  form,  fain,  fain  deny 

What  I  have  spoke  ;  but  farewell  compliment  ! 

Dost  thou  love  me  ?      I  know  thou  wilt  say  ay. 

And  I  will  take  thy  word  ;  yet,  if  thou  swear' st 

Thou  mayst  prove  false  ;   at  lovers'  perjuries. 

They  say,  Jove  laughs.      O  gentle  Romeo, 

If  thou  dost  love,  pronounce  it  faithfully  : 

Or  if  thou  think'st  I  am  too  quickly  won, 

I  '11  frown  and  be  perverse  and  say  thee  nay. 

So  thou  wilt  woo  ;  (^Action for  Romeo.  )  but  else,  not  for  the  world. 

In  truth,  fair  Montague,  I  am  too  fond. 

And  therefore  thou  mayst  think  my  'haviour  light ; 

But  trust  me,  gentleman,  I  '11  prove  more  true 

Than  those  that  have  more  cunning  to  be  strange. 

I  should  have  been  more  strange,  I  must  confess. 

But  that  thou  overheard' St,  ere  I  was  ware. 

My  true  love's  passion  ;   therefore  pardon  me. 

And  not  impute  this  yielding  to  light  love. 

Which  the  dark  night  hath  so  discovered. 

43 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Romeo. 

Lady,  by  yonder  blessed  moon  I  swear — 

Juliet. 

O,  swear  not  by  the  moon,  th'  inconstant  moon. 
That  monthly  changes  in  her  circled  orb. 
Lest  that  thy  love  prove  likewise  variable. 

Romeo. 

What  shall  I  swear  by  ? 

Juliet. 

Do  not  swear  at  all  ; 
Or,  if  thou  wilt,  swear  by  thy  gracious  self, 
Which  is  the  god  of  my  idolatry. 
And  I  '11  believe  thee. 

Romeo. 

If  my  heart's  dear  love— 

Juliet. 
Well,  do  not  swear.      Although  I  joy  in  thee, 
I  have  no  joy  of  this  contract  to-night ; 
It  is  too  rash,  too  unadvis'd,  too  sudden. 
Too  like  the  lightning,  which  doth  cease  to  be 
Ere  one  can  say  '  It  lightens.'      Sweet,  good  night ! 
This  bud  of  love,  by  summer's  ripening  breath. 
May  prove  a  beauteous  flower  when  next  we  meet. 
Good  night,  good  night  !  as  sweet  repose  and  rest 
Come  to  thy  heart  as  that  within  my  breast  ! 

Romeo. 

O,  wilt  thou  leave  me  so  unsatisfied  ? 

44 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

What  satisfaction  canst  thou  have  to-night  ? 

Romeo. 

The  exchange  of  thy  love's  faithful  vow  for  mine. 

Juliet. 

I  gave  thee  mine  before  thou  didst  request  it  ; 
And  yet  I  would  it  were  to  give  again. 

Romeo. 

Wouldst  thou  withdraw  it  ?  for  what  purpose,  love  ? 
Juliet. 

But  to  be  frank,  and  give  it  thee  again. 

And  yet  I  wish  but  for  the  thing  I  have : 

My  bounty  is  as  boundless  as  the  sea. 

My  love  as  deep  ;   the  more  I  give  to  thee. 

The  more  I  have,  for  both  are  infinite. 

I  hear  some  noise  within  ;  dear  love,  adieu  ! 

Nurse. 

[Within  L.  2  E.]     Madam  ! 

Juliet. 
Anon,  good  nurse  ! — Sweet  Montague,  be  true. 
Stay  but  a  little,  I  will  come  again.  [Exit. 

Romeo. 

O  blessed,  blessed  night !     I  am  afeard. 
Being  in  night,  all  this  is  but  a  dream. 
Too  flattering-sweet  to   be  substantial. 

[Re-enter  Juliet,   above. 

45 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

Three  words,  dear  Romeo,  and  good  night  indeed. 

If  that  thy  bent  of  love  be  honourable. 

Thy  purpose  marriage,  send  me  word  to-morrow, 

Bv  one  that  I  '11  procure  to  come  to  thee. 

Where  and  what  time  thou  wilt  perform  the  rite  ; 

And  all  my  fortunes  at  thy  feet  I  '11  lay. 

And  follow  thee,  my  lord,  throughout  the  world. 

Nurse. 

IJVithinr^      Madam! 

Juliet. 

I  come,  anon. — But  if  thou  mean'st  not  well, 

I  do  beseech  thee — 

Nurse. 

IWithin.^      Madam! 

Juliet. 

By  and  by,  I  come. — 
To  cease  thy  suit,  and  leave  me  to  my  grief ; 
To-morrow  will  I  send. 

Romeo. 

So  thrive  my  soul — 

Juliet. 

A  thousand  times  good  night  !  \_Exit. 

Romeo. 

A  thousand  times  the  worse,  to  want  thy  light. — 

Love  goes  toward  love,  as  schoolboys  from  their  books. 

But  love  from  love,  toward  school  with  heavy  looks. 

\Retiring  slowly,  L.   U.  E. 
\ Re-enter  Juliet  above. 

46 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

Hist!   Romeo,  hist! — O,  for  a  falconer's  voice. 
To  lure  this  tassel-gentle  back  again! — 
Romeo! 

Romeo. 

\lJp  C]       It  is  my  soul  that  calls  upon  my  name; 

How  silver  sweet  sound  lovers'  tongues  by  night. 

Like  softest  music  to  attending  ears.  \ Forward  L.C. 

Juliet. 

Romeo  ! 

Romeo. 

My  dear  ? 

Juliet, 

At  what  o'clock  to-morrow 
Shall  I  send  to  thee  ? 

Romeo. 

At  the  hour  of  nine. 

Juliet. 
I  will  not  fail  ;   'tis  twenty  years  tiU  then. 
I  have  forgot  why  I  did  call  thee  back. 

Romeo. 

Let  me  stand  here  till  thou  remember  it. 

Juliet. 
I  shall  forget,  to  have  thee  still  stand  there. 
Remembering  how  I  love  thy  company. 

Romeo. 

And  I  '11  still  stay,  to  have  thee  still  forget. 

Forgetting  any  other  home  but  this.  \_Long  pause 

47 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

'Tis  almost  morning  ;  I  would  have  thee  gone  : 
And  yet  no  farther  than  a  wanton's  bird. 
Who  lets  it  hop  a  little  from  her  hand. 
Like  a  poor  prisoner  in  his  twisted  gyves. 
And  with  a  silk  thread  plucks  it  back  again, 
So  loving-jealous  of  his  liberty. 

Romeo. 

I  would  I  were  thy  bird. 

Juliet. 

Sweet,  so  would  I  : 
Yet  I  should  kill  thee  with  much  cherishing. 
Good  night,  good  night!     Parting  is  such  sweet  sorrow. 
That  I  shall  say  good  night  till  it  be  morrow.       \Exit,  above. 

Romeo. 

Sleep  dwell  upon  thine  eyes,  peace  in  thy  breast  ! 
Would  I  were  sleep  and  peace,  so  sweet  to  rest  ! 

\_Kneels  to  pick  up  rose. 

END      OF      FIRST      ACT. 


ACT    I  I 

Scene  I. — Friar  Laurence's  Cell.  Monday  morning,  about  four. 
Friar  Laurence  discovered  at  desk,  reading. — A  basket 
near  him. 

Friar     Laurence. 

TiHE   grey-eyed    morn    smiles   on   the   frowning 
night. 
Chequering  the  eastern  clouds  with  streaks  ot 

light  ; 
And  flecked  darkness  Jike  a  drunkard  reels 
From    forth    day's    path    and    Titan's   fiery 
wheels  ; 
Now,  ere  the  sun  advance  his  burning  eye. 
The  day  to  cheer  and  night's  dank  dew  to  dry, 
I  must  up-fiU  this  osier  cage  of  ours 
With  baleful  weeds  and  precious-juiced  flowers. 
O,  mickle  is  the  powerful  grace  that  lies 
In  herbs,  plants,  stones  and  their  true  qualities  ; 
For  naught  so  vile  that  on  the  earth  doth  live. 
But  to  the  earth  some  special  good  doth  give. 
Nor  aught  so  good,  but,  strain' d  from  that  fair  use. 


49 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Friar     Laurence. 

Holy  Saint  Francis,  what  a  change  is  here  ! 
Is  Rosaline,  that  thou  didst  love  so  dear. 
So  soon  forsaken  ?     Young  men's  love  then  lies 
Not  truly  in  their  hearts,  but  in  their  eyes. 

Romeo. 

Thou  chid'st  me  oft  for  loving  Rosaline. 

Friar     Laurence. 

For  doting,  not  for  loving,  pupil  mine. 

Romeo. 

I  pray  thee,  chide  not  ;   she  whom  I  love  now 
Doth  grace  for  grace  and  love  for  love  allow  ; 
The  other  did  not  so. 

Friar     Laurence. 

O,  she  knew  well. 
Thy  love  did  read  by  rote  and  could  not  spell. 
But  come,  young  waverer,  come,  go  with  me  ; 
In  one  respect  I  '11  thy  assistant  be ; 
For  this  alliance  may  so  happy  prove. 
To  turn  your  households'  rancour  to  pure  love. 

Romeo. 

O,  let  us  hence  !     I  stand  on  sudden  haste.     \Exit  to  other  room. 

Friar     Laurence. 

Wisely  and  slow  ;   they  stumble  that  run  fast.      \_Exeunt. 

52 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Scene  II.      A  Street.      Mo7tday  Morning  about  S.JO. 

[^Enter  Benvolio  anJ  Mercutio,  R.  arch  R.  U.  E. 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

Where  the  devil  should  this  Romeo  be  ? 
Came  he  not  home  to  night  ? 

Benvolio. 

Not  to  his  father's  ;   I  spoke  with  his  man. 

Mercutio. 

Why,  that  same  pale  hard-hearted  wench,  that  Rosaline, 
Torments  him  so  that  he  will  sure  ran  mad. 

Benvolio. 

Tybalt,  the  kinsman  of  old  Capulet, 
Hath  sent  a  letter  to  his  father's  house. 

Mercutio. 

A  challenge,  on  my  life. 

Benvolio. 

Romeo  will  answer  it. 

Mercutio. 

Any  man  that  can  write  may  answer  a  letter. 

Benvolio. 

Nay,  he   will   answer  the  letter's  master,  how  he   dares,  being 

dared. 

Mercutio. 

Alas,  poor   Romeo   he    is   already  dead  !   stabbed  with   a  white 
wench's  black  eye  ;   shot  through   the   ear   with   a  love-song  ;   the 

53 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Revolts  from  true  birth,  stumbling  on  abuse  ; 

Virtue  itself  turns  vice,  being  misapplied. 

And  vice  sometime  's  by  action  dignified. 

Within  the  infant  rind  of  this  small  flower 

Poison  hath  residence,  and  medicine  power ; 

For  this,  being  smelt,  with  that  part  cheers  each  part. 

Being  tasted,  slays  all  senses  with  the  heart. 

Two  such  opposed  kings  encamp  them  still 

In  man  as  well  as  herbs, — grace  and  rude  will  ; 

And  where  the  worser  is  predominant. 

Full  soon  the  canker  death  eats  up  that  plant. 

\Enter  Romeo,  through  door  in  partitian, 

Romeo. 

\Kneeling.'\      Good  morrow,  father. 

Friar     Laurence. 

[Turning  to  Romeo.]      Benedicite  ! 
What  early  tongue  so  sweet  saluteth  me  ? — 
Young  son,  it  argues  a  distemper' d  head 
So  soon  to  bid  good  morrow  to  thy  bed  : 
Care  keeps  his  watch  in  every  old  man's  eye. 
And  where  care  lodges,  sleep  will  never  lie  ; 
But  where  unbruised  youth  with  unstuiF'd  brain     [Romeo  rises. 
Doth  couch  his  limbs,  there  golden  sleep  doth  reign. 
Therefore  thy  earliness  doth  me  assure 
Thou  art  up-rous'd  by  some  distemperature  ; 
Or,'if  not  so,  then  here  I  hit  it  right. 
Our  Romeo  hath  not  been  in  bed  to-night. 

Romeo. 

The  last  is  true  ;   the  sweeter  rest  was  mine. 

50 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Friar     Laurence. 

God  pardon  sin  !      Wast  thou  with  Rosaline  ? 

Romeo. 

With  Rosaline,  my  ghostly  father  ?      No  ; 

I  have  forgot  that  name,  and  that  name's  woe. 

Friar     Laurence. 

That  's  my  good  son  ;   hut  where  hast  thou  been,  then  ? 

Romeo. 

I  '11  tell  thee  ere  thou  ask  it  me  again. 
I  have  been  feasting  with  mine  enemy  ; 
Where  on  a  sudden  one  hatli  wounded  me. 
That  's  by  me  wounded  ;  both  our  remedies 
Within  thy  help  and  holy  physic  lies. 

Friar     Laurence. 

Be  plain,  good  son,  and  homely  in  thy  drift ; 
Riddling  confession  finds  but  riddling  shrift. 

Romeo. 

Then  plainly  know,  my  heart's  dear  love  is  set 
On  the  fair  daughter  of  rich  Capulet ; 
As  mine  on  hers,  so  hers  is  set  on  mine  ; 
And  all  combin'd,  save  what  thou  must  combine 
Bv  holv  marriage.      When  and  where  and  how 
We  met,  we  woo'd  and  made  exchange  of  vow, 
I  '11  tell  thee  as  we  pass  ;  but  this  I  pray. 
That  thou  consent  to  marry  us  to-day. 

51 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

very   pin   of  his   heart   cleft   with  the  blind  bow-boy's  butt-shaft  : 
and  is  he  a  man  to  encounter   Tybalt  ? 

B  E  N  V  O  L  I  O. 

Why,  what  is  Tybalt? 

Mercutio. 

More  than  prince  of  cats,  I  can  tell  you.  O,  he  's  the  courage- 
ous captain  of  compliments.  He  fights  as  you  sing  prick-song, 
keeps  time,  distance  and  proportion  ;  rests  me  his  minim  rest, 
one,  two,  and  the  third  in  your  bosom  :  the  very  butcher  of  a 
silk  button,  a  duellist,  a  duellist  ;  a  gentleman  of  the  very  first 
house,  of  the  first  and  second  cause.  Ah,  the  immortal  passado  ! 
the  punto  reverso  !  the  hai  ! 

Benvolio. 

The  what  ? 

Mercutio. 

The  plague  of  such  antic,  lisping,  affecting  fantasticoes,  these  new 
tuners  of  accents  !  *  Bv  jesu,  a  very  good  blade  !  a  verv  tall  man  ! 
A  very  fine  wench.'  Why,  is  not  this  a  lamentable  thing,  grand- 
sire,  that  we  should  be  thus  afflicted  with  these  strange  flies,  these 
fasliion-mongers,  these  pardojinez-moi'' s  F  O,  their  bans,  their 
bojis  ! 

Benvolio. 

^Looki/ig  off  R.  U.  £.^  Here  comes  Romeo,  here  comes 
Romeo. 

Mercutio. 

Without  his  roe,  like  a  dried  herring  :  O  flesh,  flesh,  how  art 
thou  fishified  !  Now  is  he  for  the  numbers  that  Petrarch  flowed 
in  :  Laura  to  his  lady  was  but  a  kitchen-wench  ;  marry,  she  had 
a  better   love   to  be-rhyme   her  ;    Dido    a   dowdv  ;    Cleopatra    a 

54 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

gipsy  ;   Helen  and   Hero,  hildings  and   harlots  ;      Thisbe  a  grey 
eye  or  so,  but  not  to  the  purpose. — 

\Enter  Romeo  R.    U.  E.  through  arch. 
Signior  Romeo,  bon  jour  !  there  's  a  French  salutation  for  you. 
You  gave  us  the  counterfeit  fairly  last  night. 

Rom  e  o. 

Good  morrow  to  you  both.      What  counterfeit  did  I  give  you  ? 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

The  slip,  sir,  the  slip.     Can  you  not  conceive  ? 

Romeo. 

Pardon,  good  Mercutio,  my  business  was  great  ;  and  in  such  a 
case  as  mine  a  man  may  strain  courtesy. 

Mercutio. 

A  sail,  a  sail  !  \^Looking  off  R. 

Benvolio. 

Two,  two  J   a  shirt  and  a  smock. 

\^ETiter  Peter  atul  Nurse  R.  2  E. 


Nurse. 

Peter  ! 

Peter. 

Anon  ! 

Nurse. 

My  fan, 

Peter. 

[Peter  gives  fan  to  Nurse. 

Mercutio. 

Good  Peter,  to  hide  her  face,  for  her  fan  's  the  fairer  of  the  two. 

Nurse, 

God  ye  good  morrow,   gentlemen. 

ss 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

M  ER  C  U  T  I  O. 

[^Crossifig  to  Nurse.]      God  ye  good  den,  fair  gentlewoman. 

Nurse. 

Gentlemen,  can  any  one  of  you  tell  me  where   I  may  find  the 

young  Romeo  ? 

[Mercutio  and  Benvolio  laugh. 

Romeo. 

I  am  the  youngest  of  that  name,  for  fault  of  a  worse. 

Nurse. 

You  say  well.      [Peter  sits  on  steps  of  church. '\      If  you  be  he, 
sir,  I  desire  some  confidence  with  you. 

Benvolio. 

She  will  indite  him  to  some  supper. 

Mercutio. 

So    ho!      \_Catches  Romeo's  eye.'\     Romeo,  will   you   come  to 
your  father's  ?      We  '11  to  dinner,  thither. 

Romeo. 

I  will  follow  you. 

Mercutio. 

Farewell,  ancient  lady  ;  farewell,  \Singing. 

'  Lady,    lady,    lady.' 

\ Exeunt  Mercutio  and  Benvolio,  R.  s  E. 

Nurse. 

Marry,  farewell! — I  pray  you,  sir,  what  saucy  merchant  was 
this,  that  was  so  full  of  his  ropery  ? 

56 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Romeo. 

A  gentleman,  nurse,  that  loves  to  hear  himself  talk,  and  will 
speak  more  in  a  minute  than  he  will  stand  to  in  a  month. 

Nurse. 

Scurvy  knave  !  I  am  none  of  his  flirt-gills  ;  I  am  none  of  his 
skains-mates.  \_Sees  Peter  ;  goes  up  to  him  and  hits  him  with 
fan.'\  And  thou  must  stand  by,  too,  and  suffer  every  knave  to 
use  me  at  his  pleasure  ? 

Peter. 

I  saw  no  man  use  you  at  his  pleasure  ;  if  I  had,  my  weapon 
should  quickly  have  been  out,  I  warrant  you.  I  dare  draw  as 
soon  as  another  man,  if  I  see  occasion  in  a  good  quarrel,  and  the 
law  on  my  side. 

Nurse. 

Scurvy  knave  ! — Pray  you,  sir,  a  word  :  and  as  I  told  you, 
my  young  lady  bade  me  inquire  you  out  ;  what  she  bade  me  say, 
I  will  keep  to  myself :  but  first  let  me  tell  ye,  if  ye  should  lead 
her  into  a  fool's  paradise,  as  they  say,  it  were  a  very  gross  kind  of 
behavior,  as  they  say:  for  the  gentlewoman  is  young,  and  there- 
fore if  you  should  deal  double  with  her,  truly  it  were  an  ill  thing 
to  be  offered  to  any  gentlewoman,  and  very  weak  dealing. 

Romeo. 

Nurse,  commend  me  to  thy  lady  and  mistress.  I  protest  unto 
thee — 

Nurse. 

Good  heart,  and,  i'  faith,  I  will  tell  her  as  much.  Lord,  Lord, 
she  will  be  a  joyful  woman.  \Going  toward  R. 

Romeo. 

What  wilt  thou  tell  her,  nurse  ?     Thou  dost  not  mark  me. 

S7 


ROMEO     ajid    JULIET 
Nurse. 

I  will  tell  her,  sir,  that  you   do  protest  ;  which,  as  I  take  it,  is 
a  gentlemanlike  offer. 

Romeo. 

Bid  her  devise 
Some  means  to  come  to  shrift  this  afternoon  ; 
And  there  she  shall  at  Friar  Laurence'  cell 
Be  shriv'd  and  married.      Here  is  for  thy  pains. 

Nurse. 

No,  truly,  sir  ;  not  a  penny. 

Romeo. 

Go  to ;   I  say  you  shall. 

Nurse. 

This  afternoon,  sir  ?      Well,  she  shall  be  there. 

Romeo. 

And  stay,  good  nurse  ;  behind  the  abbey  wall 
Within  this  hour  my  man  shall  be  with  thee. 
And  bring  thee  cords  made  like  a  tackled  stair  ; 
Which  to  the  liigh  top-gallant  of  my  joy 
Must  be  my  convoy  in  the  secret  night. 
Farewell  ;   be  trusty,  and  I  '11  quit  thy  pains  ; 
Farewell  ;   commend  me  to  thy  mistress. 

Nurse. 
Now  God  in  heaven  bless  thee  ! 

Romeo. 

Commend  me  to  thv  lady. 


S8 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Nurse. 

Ay,    a   thousand    times —      \Exit   Romeo,  L.   2   £.]      Peter  ! 
\Poke5  him  with  cane. 

Peter. 

Anon  ! 

Nurse. 

\  Giving  fan  to  hirn.']      Before  and  apace, 

\_Exeunt,  R.  2  E. 

Scene  III. — Capulet's  Garden.      Monday  morning.     Juliet  dis- 
covered, C.,  looking  off  L.  I  E. 

Juliet. 

The  clock  struck  nine  when  I  did  send  the  nurse  ; 

In  half  an  hour  she  promised  to  return. 

Perchance  she  cannot  meet  him  ;   that  's  not  so. 

O,  she  is  lame  !  love's  heralds  should  be  thoughts. 

Which  ten  times  faster  glide  than  the  sun's  beams 

Driving  back  shadows  over  louring  hills  ; 

Therefore  do  nimble-pinion' d  doves  draw  love. 

And  therefore  hath  the  wind-swift  Cupid  wings. 

Now  is  the  sun  upon  the  highmost  hill 

Of  this  day's  journey,  and  from  nine  till  twelve 

Is  three  long  hours,  yet  she  is  not  come. 

Had  she  affections  and  warm,  youthful  blood. 

She  would  be  as  swift  in  motion  as  a  ball  ; 

My  words  would  bandy  her  to  my  sweet  love. 

And  his  to  me  : 

But  old  folks,  many  feign  as  they  were  dead  ; 

Unwieldy,  slow,  heavy  and  pale  as  lead.      \^About  to  sit  R.   C. 

[Enter  Nurse  and  Peter  L.  I  E. 
O  God,  she  comes  ! — O  honey  nurse,  what  news  ? 
Hast  thou  met  with  him  ?      Send  thy  man  away. 

59 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Nurse. 

Peter,  stay  at  the  gate.  \_Exit  Peter,  L.  i  E. 

Juliet. 

Now,  good  sweet  nurse, — O  Lord,  why  look'st  thou  sad  ? 

Nurse. 

I  am  a-weary  ;   give  me  leave  a  while. 

Fie,  how  my  bones  ache  !      What  a  jaunt  have   I  had  ! 

{Sits  R.   C. 

Juliet. 

I  would  thou  hadst  my  bones,  and  I  thy  news. 

Nay,  come,  I  pray  thee,  speak  ;    good,  good  nurse,  speak. 

Nurse. 

Jesu,  what  haste  !      Can  you  not  stay  awhile  ? 
Do  you  not  see  that  I  am  out  of  breath  ? 

Juliet. 

How  art  thou  out  of  breath,  when  thou  hast  breath 

To  say  to  me  that  thou  art  out  of  breath  ? 

The  excuse  that  thou  dost  make  in  this  delay 

Is  longer  than  the  tale  thou  dost  excuse. 

Is  thy  news  good  or  bad  ?     Answer  to  that ; 

Say  either,  and  I  Ml  stay  the  circumstance  : 

Let  me  be  satisfied,  is  't  good  or  bad  ? 

Nurse. 
Well,  you  have  made  a  simple  choice  ;  you  know  not  how  to 
choose  a  man.  Romeo  !  No,  not  he  ;  though  his  face  be  better 
than  any  man's,  yet  his  leg  excels  all  men's  ;  and  as  for  a  hand, 
and  a  foot,  and  a  body,  though  they  be  not  to  be  talked  on,  yet 
they  are  past  compare;  he  is  not  the   flower  of  courtesy,  but  I  '11 

60 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

warrant    him    as    gentle  as  a  lamb.      Go  thy  ways,  wench  ;   serve 
God. — What,  have  you  dined  at  home  ? 

Juliet. 

No,  no  ;  but  all  this  did  I  know  before. 
What  says  he  ot  our  marriage  ?   what  of  that  ? 

Nurse. 

Lord,  how  my  head  aches  !   What  a  head  have  I  ! 

It  beats  as  it  would  fall  in  twenty  pieces. 

My  back  o'  t'  other  side, — O,  my  back,  my  back  ! 

Beshrew  your  heart  for  sending  me  about. 

To  catch  my  death  with  jaunting  up  and  down  ! 

Juliet. 

P  faith,  I  am  sorry  that  thou  art  not  well. 

Sweet,  sweet,  sweet  nurse,  tell  me,  what  says  my  love  ? 

Nurse, 

Your  love  says,  like  an  honest  gentleman,  and  a  courteous,  and 
a  kind,  and  a  handsome,  and,  I  warrant,  a  virtuous, — Where  is 
your  mother  ? 

Juliet. 

Where  is  my  mother  !      Why,  she  is  within  ; 
Where  should  she  be  .''      How  oddly  thou  repliest  ! 
*  Your  love  says,  like  an  honest  gentleman. 
Where  is  your  mother  ? ' 

Nurse. 

O  God's  lady  dear! 
Are  you  so  hot  ?      Marry,  come  up,  I  trow  ; 
Is  this  the  poultice  for  my  aching  bones  ? 
Henceforward  do  your  messages  yourself. 

[Nurse  rises  and  goes  up  C,  as  if  going. 

6i 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

Here  's  such  a  coil! — come,  what  says  Romeo  ?    [Nurse  returns. 

Nurse. 

Have  you  got  leave  to  go  to  shrift  to-dav  ? 

Juliet. 
I  have. 

Nurse. 

Then  hie  you  hence  to  Friar  Laurence'  cell  ; 

There  stays  a  husband  to  make  you  a  wife. 

Now  comes  the  wanton  blood  up  in  your  cheeks. 

They  '11  be  in  scarlet  straight  at  any  news. 

Go;  I  '11  to  dinner;  hie  you  to  the  cell. 

[Juliet  crosses  to  L. 

Juliet. 

Hie  to  high  fortune  ! — Honest  nurse,     \_Kisses  her."]     farewell. 
[Nurse  goes  up  C.      Exit  Juliet  L.  i  E. 

END      OF      SECOND       ACT. 


62 


ACT   III 

Scene   I.      Friar  Laurence's  cell.      Monaay — about  fioon.     Enter 
Romeo  anJ  Friar  Laurence  L.   C. 


Friar   Laurence. 

O   SMILE  the  heavens  upon  this  holy  act 
That  after-hours  with  sorrow  chide  us  not  ! 

Romeo. 

Amen,  amen  !   but  come  what  sorrow  can. 
It  cannot  countervail  the  exchange  of  joy 
That  one  short  minute  gives  me  in  her  sight. 

Do  thou  but  close  our  hands  with  holy  words. 

Then  love-devouring  death  do  what  he  dare. 

It  is  enough  I  may  but  call  her  mine. 


Friar   Laurence. 

These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends. 

And  in  their  triumphs  die,  like  fire  and  powder. 

Which  as  they  kiss  consume  : 

63 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Therefore,  love  moderately  ;  long  love  doth  so  ; 
Too  swift  arrives  as  tardy  as  too  slow. 

\Enter  Juliet  C.  L. 
Here  comes  the  lady.    FFriar.  goes  to  her  and  leads  her  into  cell. 

O,  so  light  a  foot 
Will  ne'er  wear  out  the  everlasting  flint  I 

Juliet. 

Good  even  to  my  ghostly  contessor. 

Friar   Laurence. 
Romeo  shall  thank  thee,  daughter,  for  us  both. 

Juliet. 
As  much  to  him,  else  is  his  thanks  too  much. 

Romeo. 

Ah,  Juliet,  if  the  measure  of  thy  joy 
Be  heap'd  like  mine,  and  that  thy  skill  be  more 
To  blazon  it,  then  sweeten  with  thy  breath 
This  neighbor  air,  and  let  rich  music's  tongue 
Unfold  the  imagin'd  happiness  that  both 
Receive  in  either  by  this  dear  encounter, 

Juliet. 
Conceit,  more  rich  in  matter  than  in  words. 
Brags  of  his  substance,  not  of  ornament. 
They  are  but  beggars  that  can  count  their  worth  ; 
But  my  true  love  is  grown  to  such  excess 
I  cannot  sum  up  half  my  sum  of  wealth. 

64 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Friar   Laurence. 

TDown  R.  H.l^    Come,  come  witk  me,  and  we  will  make  short 

work  ; 

For,  by  your  leares,  you  shall  not  stay  alone     \_Opens  door  R.  i  E. 

Till  holv  church  incorporate  two  in  one. 

\Exeunt  R.  i  E. 

Scene  II. — A  Public  Place.  Monday;  the  early  afternoon. 
Enter  Mercutio,  Benvolio,  Page,  Lords  and  Servants, 
L.   U.  E. 

Benvolio. 
I  pray  thee,  good  Mercutio,  let  's  retire  : 
The  day  is  hot,  the  Capulets  abroad. 
And  if  we  meet  we  shall  not  'scape  a  brawl  ; 
For  now,  these  hot  days,  is  the  mad  blood  stirring. 

Mercutio. 

Thou  art  like  one  of  those  fellows  that  when  he  enters  the 
confines  of  a  tavern  claps  me  his  sword  upon  the  table,  and  says 
'  God  send  me  no  need  of  thee  !  '  and  by  the  operation  of  the 
second  cup  draws  him  on  the  drawer  when  indeed  there  is  no  need. 

Benvolio. 

\_Hotly.']      Am  I  like  such  a  fellow  ? 

Mercutio. 

Come,  come,  thou  art  as  hot  a  Jack  in   thy   mood  as    any  in 

Italy,  and  as  soon  moved  to  be  moody,  and  as  soon  moody  to  be 

moved. 

Benvolio. 

And  what  to  ? 

65 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 
Nav,  an  there  were  two  such,  we  should  have  none  shortly,  for 
one  would  kill  the  other.  Thou  !  Why,  thou  wile  quarrel  with 
a  man  that  hath  a  hair  more,  or  a  hair  less  in  his  beard  than  thou 
hast.  Thou  wilt  quarrel  with  a  man  for  cracking  nuts,  ha\-ing  no 
other  reason  but  because  thou  hast  hazel  eyes.  Thou  hast 
quarrelled  with  a  man  for  coughing  in  the  street,  because  he  hath 
wakened  rhv  dog  that  hath  lain  asleep  in  the  sun.  Didst  thou  not 
fall  ou:  with  a  tailor  for  wearing  his  new  double:  before  Easter  ? 
with  another,  for  trying  his  new  shoes  vAxh  old  riband  ?  and  yet 
thou  wilt  tutor  me  from  quarrelling  I 

B  E  N  V  O  L  I  O. 
An  I   were  so  ape   to  quarrel  as  thou  art,  any  man  should  buy 
the  fee-simple  of  my  life  for  an  hour  and  a  quarter. 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

The  fee-simple  !      O  simple  ! 

B  E  N  V  O  L  I  O. 
[Looking  off  R.'\      By  my  head,  here  come  die  Capolets. 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

By  my  heel,  I  care  not. 

\Enter  T-i-BALT,  three  Lords,  three  Servants  and  others, 

R.   U.  E. 

Tybalt. 

Follow  me  close,  for  I  will  speak  to  them. — 
Gentlemen,  good  den  ;   a  word  with  one  of  you. 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 
And  but  one  word  with  one  of  us  ?     Couple  it  with  some- 
thing ;  make  it  a  word  and  a  blow. 

66 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

T  T  3  A  L  T. 


Could  TOO  iKiC  talc  : :  ~ 

Tybalt. 

Mercndo,  thoa  consorr'st  wicA  Rcmeo, — 

Mercutio. 

Cmsort !     Wltat,  doflt  thoa  maie  os  niL- 
m"tii<jiel«  of  115-  !;■:'£  '.'.    "n"    ~  T'^nng  tmc    i 
&!<ilesi:ic&;  ter-  ";   -Ju:    fM-.    -akc  vou  ii- 

Benvolio. 


T 


Wc::.  re; 


RoaaEO, 


M   Z   7vC    .    TIO. 


L- 


67 


ROMEO     a7td    JULIET 
Tybalt. 

Romeo,  the  hate  I  bear  thee  can  afford 

No  better  term  than  this, — thou  art  a  villain. 

Romeo. 

Tybalt,  the  reason  that  I  have  to  love  thee 
Doth  much  excuse  the  appertaining  rage 
To  such  a  greeting.      Villain  am  I  none  ; 
Therefore,  farewell  ;   I  see  thou  know'st  me  not. 

\^Crosses  and  goes  up  to  Mercutio  and  Benvolio. 

Tybalt. 

Boy,  this  shall  not  excuse  the  injuries 

That  thou  hast  done  me  ;  therefore,  turn  and  draw. 

Romeo. 

I  do  protest,  I  never  injur' d  thee. 

But  love  thee  better  than  thou  canst  devise. 

Till  thou  shall  know  the  reason  of  my  love  ; 

And  so,  good  Capulet, — which  name  I  tender 

As  dearly  as  mine  own, — be  satisfied.  \^Exit  L.  2  E. 

Mercutio. 

O  calm,  dishonorable,  vile  submission  ! 

[Tybalt  and  his  partisans,  laughing  derisively,  are  moving  away 
R.    C. 

Alia  stoccata  carries  it  away.  ^He  draws. 

Tybalt,  you  rat-catcher,  will  you  walk  ? 

Tybalt. 
What  would  thou  have  with  me  ?  [Returning  down  R.  C. 

68 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

Good  king  of  cats,  nothing  but  one  of  your  nine  lives,  that  I 
mean  to  make  bold  withal.  Will  you  pluck  your  sword  out  of 
its  pilcher  by  the  ears  ?  Make  haste,  lest  mine  be  about  your  ears 
ere  it  be  out. 

Tybalt. 

\Drawing.'\      I  am  for  you. 

Romeo. 

\Re-entering  L.  2  £.]      Gentle  Mercutio,  put  thy  rapier  up. 

Mercutio.  \ 

Come,  sir,  your  passado.  1    \They  fight. 

Romeo.  . 

Draw,  Benvolio  ;  beat  down  their  weapons.        * 
Gentlemen,  for  shame,  forbear  this  outrage. 
Tybalt,  Mercutio,  the  prince  expressly  hath 
Forbid  this  bandying  in  Verona  streets.  ' 

Hold,  Tybalt  !      Good  Mercutio  1      [Tybalt  stabs  Mercutio. 
\_Exeu7it  Tybalt  and  his  partisans,  R.    U.  ^E. 

Mercutio. 

[Romeo  and  Benvolio  catch  him. "^      I  am  hurt. 
A  plague  o'  both  your  houses  !     I  am  sped. 

Is  he  gone,  and  hath  nothing  ? 

Benvolio. 

What,  art  thou  hurt  ? 

Mercutio. 

Ay,  ay,  a  scratch,  a  scratch  ;   marry,  'tis  enough. — 
Where  is  my  page  ?      Go,  villain,  fetch  a  surgeon. 
[Exit  Page  R.   U.  E. 

69 


(   I 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Romeo. 

Courage,  man  ;   the  hurt  cannot  be  much. 

M  E  R  C  UTI  O. 

No,  'tis  not  so  deep  as  a  well,  nor  so  wide  as  a  church  door  ; 
but  'tis  enough,  'twill  serve  :  I  am  peppered,  I  warrant,  for  this 
■vvrorld. — A  plague  o'  both  your  houses  ! — 'Zounds,  a  dog,  a  rat, 
a  mo.ise,  a  cat,  to  scratch  a  man  to  death !  a  braggart,  a  rogue,  a 
villain,  that  fights  by  the  book  of  arithmetic! — Why  the  devil 
came  vou  between  us  ?     I  was  hurt  under  your  arm. 

R  O  M  E  O. 

I  thought  al'  for  the  best, 

M  E  R  C  U  T  I  O. 

Help  me  into  some  house,  BenvoHo, 
Or  I  shall  <aint. — A  plague  of  both  your  houses! 
They  have  made  worms'  meat  of  me.      I  have  it. 
And  soundly  too  ;   ask  for  me  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  find  me 
a  grave  man        Your  houses  ! 

\ Exeunt  Mercutio  and  Benvolio,  L.  2  E. 

R  O  M  E  O. 

I 

This  gentleman,  the  prince's  near  ally, 

Mv  very  friend,  hath  got  his  mortal  hurt 

In  my  behalf;  my  reputation  stain' d 

With  Tybalt's  slander, — Tybalt,  that  an  hour 

Hath  been  my  cousin  ! — O  sweet  Juliet, 

Thy  beauty  hath  made  me  effeminate. 

And  in  my  temper  soften' d  valour's  steel  \ 

\ Re-enter  Benvolio. 

7<9 


if 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Benvolio. 

O  Romeo,  Romeo,  brave  Mercutio's  dead  ! 

\Looking  off  R.  C. 
Here  comes  the  furious  Tybalt  back  again. 

\^Re-enter  Tybalt. 

Romeo. 

Alive,  in  triumph  !  and  Mercutio  slain  ! 

XPifks  up  Mercutio's  sword. 
Now,  Tybalt,  take  the  '  villain  '  back  again 
That  late  thou  gavest  me,  for  Mercutio's  soul 
Is  but  a  little  way  above  our  heads. 
Staying  for  thine  to  keep  him  company  ; 
Either  thou,  or  I,  or  both,  must  go  with  him. 

Tybalt. 

Thou,  wretched  boy,  that  didst  consort  him  here, 
Shalt  with  him  hence. 

Romeo. 

This  shall  determine  that. 
XThey  fight.     Tybm.t  falls.      Bell.      Murmurs  within. 

Benvolio. 

Romeo,  away,  be  gone  ! 

The  citizens  are  up,  and  Tybalt  slain. 

Stand  not  amaz'd  ;   the  prince  will  doom  thee  death. 

If  thou  art  taken.      Hence,  be  gone,  away  ! 

Romeo. 

[Up  C]     O,  I  am  fortune's  fool  ! 

\_Exit  Romeo  and  Benvolio,  L.  U.  E.      Enter  officer^ 
guards  and  servants  nf  Prince,  citizens,  etc. 

7' 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Scene  III. — Friar  Laurence's  Cell.     Monday  afternoon.     Romeo 
discovered.     Enter  Friar  Laurence,  who  locks  iron  gates. 

Friar     Laurence. 

Romeo  ! 

Romeo. 

[///  chair,  R.   C]     Father,  what  news  ?     What  is  the  prince's 
doom  ? 

What  sorrow  craves  acquaintance  at  my  hand. 
That  I  yet  know  not  ? 

Friar     Laurence. 

Too  familiar 
Is  my  dear  son  with  such  sour  company  ; 
I  bring  thee  tidings  of  the  prince's  doom. 

Romeo. 

What  less  than  doomsday  is  the  prince's  doom  ? 

Friar     Laurence, 

A  gentler  judgment  vanished  from  his  lips. 
Not  body's  death,  but  body's  banishment. 

Romeo. 

[^/V^/.]      Ha,  banishment  !  be  merciful,  say  death  ; 

For  exile  hath  more  terror  in  his  look. 

Much  more  than  death  ;   do  not  say  banishment. 

Friar     Laurence.  f . 

Hence  from  Verona  art  thou  banished. 

Be  patient,  for  the  world  is  broad  and  wide. 

72  •' 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Romeo. 

There  is  no  world  without  Verona  walls. 
But  purgatory,  torture,  hell  itself. 
Hence  banished  is  banish' d  from  the  world. 
And  world's  exile  is  death  :   then  banished 
Is  death  mis-term' d  ;   calling  death  banishment 
Thou  cutt'st  my  head  off  with  a  golden  axe. 
And  smil'st  upon  the  stroke  that  murthers  me. 

Friar     Laurence. 

O  deadly  sin  !      O  rude  unthankfulness  ! 
Thy  fault  our  law  calls  death  ;   but  the  kind  prince. 
Taking  thy  part,  hath  rush'd  aside  the  law. 
And  turn'd  that  black  word  death  to  banishment. 

Romeo. 

'Tis  torture  and  not  mercy  !      Heaven  is  here 

Where  Juliet  lives  ;  and  every  cat  and  dog 

And  little  mouse,  every  unworthy  thing. 

Live  here  in  heaven  and  may  look  on  her. 

But  Romeo  may  not. 

Hadst  thou  no  poison  mix'd,  no  sharp-ground  knife. 

No  sudden  mean  of  death,  though  ne'er  so  mean. 

But  *  banished  '  to  kill  me  ? — Banished  ! 

O  friar,  the  damned  use  that  word  in  hell  : 

Howling  attends  it  :  how  hast  thou  the  heart. 

Being  a  divine,  a  ghostly  confessor, 

A  sin-absolver,  and  my  friend  profess' d, 

To  mangle  me  with  that  word  '  banished  ? ' 

73 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Friar    Laurence. 

Thou  fond  mad  man,  hear  me  but  speak  a  word. 

Romeo. 

O,  thou  wilt  speak  again  of  banishment.  \_In  chair  R.  C. 

Friar    Laurence. 

I  'II  give  thee  armor  to  keep  off  that  word  ; 

Adversity's  sweet  milk,  philosophy. 

To  comfort  thee,  though  thou  art  banished. 

Romeo. 

[Rises.']      Yet  *  banished  ! '      Hang  up  philosophy  ! 
Unless  philosophy  can  make  a  Juliet, 
Displant  a  town,  reverse  a  prince's  doom. 
It  helps  not,  it  prevails  not ;   talk  no  more. 

Friar    Laurence. 

Let  me  dispute  with  thee  of  thy  estate. 

Romeo. 

Thou  canst  not  speak  of  that  thou  dost  not  feel. 

Wert  thou  as  young  as  I,  Juliet  thy  love. 

An  hour  but  married,  Tybalt  murthered. 

Doting  like  me  and  like  me  banished. 

Then  mightst  thou  speak,  then  mightst  thou  tear  thy  hair. 

And  fall  upon  the  ground,  as  I  do  now,  [_Fa//s  R.  C, 

Taking  the  measure  of  an  unmade  grave. 

[Knocking  within.      Nurse  at  gate  L.  C. 

Friar     Laurence. 

Arise  ;   one  knocks  ;   good  Romeo,  hide  thyse'lf. 


[Knocking. 


\  7+ 

\ 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Hark,  how  they  knock  ! — Who  's  there  ? — Romeo,  arise  ; 

Thou  wilt  be  taken. — Stay  awhile  ! — Stand  up  ! 

IKfiock. 
By  and  by  ! — God's  will. 

What  simpleness  is  this  ! — 

\_Knocking. 
I  come,  I  come. 

Who  knocks  so  hard?      Whence  come   you?      What  's   your 

will? 

Nurse. 

^Within.']^      Let  me  come  in,  and   you  shall  know  my  errand  ; 
I  come  from  Lady  Juliet. 

Friar    Laurence. 

Welcome,  then. 
[^Enter  Nurse. 

Nurse. 

O  holy  friar,  O,  tell  me,  holy  friar. 
Where  is  my  lady's  lord,  where  's  Romeo? 

Friar     Laurence. 

There  on  the  ground,  with  his  own  tears  made  drunk. 

Nurse. 

O,  he  is  even  in  my  mistress'  case. 

Just  in  her  case  !      Stand  up,  my  lord  ! 

For  Juliet's  sake,  for  her  sake,  rise  and  stand. 

Romeo. 

Spak'st  thou  of  Juliet  ?      How  is  it  with  her  ? 

Nurse. 

O,  she  savs  nothing,  sir,  but  weeps  and  weeps  ; 

7S 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

And  now  falls  on  her  bed  ;  and  then  starts  up. 
And  Tybalt  calls  ;  and  then  on  Romeo  cries. 
And  then  down  falls  again. 

Romeo. 

As  if  that  name. 

Shot  from  the  deadly  level  of  a  gun, 

Did  murther  her  ; — O,  tell  me,  friar,  tell  me. 

In  what  vile  part  of  this  anatomy 

Doth  my  name  lodge  ?     Tell  me,  that  I  may  sack 

The  hateful  mansion. 

\_Dr awing  his  dagger,  on  knees,  R.   C. 

Friar    Laurence. 

[^Seizing  his  hand.'\      Hold  thy  desperate  hand  ! 

Art  thou  a  man  ?   thy  form  cries  out  thou  art ; 

Thy  tears  are  womanish  ;  thy  wild  acts  denote 

The  unreasonable  fury  of  a  beast  ; 

Thou  hast  amaz'd  me  ;  by  my  holy  order, 

I  thought  thy  disposition  better  temper' d. 

Hast  thou  slain  Tybalt  ?  wilt  thou  slay  thyself? 

And  slay  thy  lady  too,  that  lives  in  thee. 

By  doing  damned  hate  upon  thyself? 

What,  rouse  thee,  man  !   thy  Juliet  is  alive. 

There  art  thou  happy;  Tybalt  would  kill  thee. 

But  thou  slew' St  Tybalt ;   there  art  thou  happy  too  ; 

The  law  that  threaten' d  death  becomes  thy  friend 

And  turns  it  to  exile  ;  there  art  thou  happy. 

A  pack  of  blessings  lights  upon  thy  back. 

Happiness  courts  thee  in  her  best  array  ; 

But,  like  a  misbehaved  and  sullen  wench, 

76 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Thou  pout' St  upon  thy  fortune  and  thy  love  ; 

Take  heed,  take  heed,  for  such  die  miserable. 

Go,  get  thee  to  thy  love,  as  was  decreed  ; 

But  look  thou,  stay  not  till  the  watch  be  set, 

For  then  thou  canst  not  pass  to  Mantua  ; 

Where  thou  shalt  live,  till  we  can  find  a  time 

To  blame  your  marriage,  reconcile  your  friends. 

Beg  pardon  of  the  prince,  and  call  thee  back 

With  twenty  hundred  thousand  times  more  joy 

Than  thou  went'st  forth  in  lamentation.  [Romeo  rises. 

Go  before,  nurse  ;  commend  me  to  thy  lady. 

Romeo  is  coming. 

Nurse. 

O  Lord,  I  could  have  stay'd  here  all  the  night 
To  hear  good  counsel  ;   O  what  learning  is  ! 
My  lord,  I  '11  tell  my  lady  you  will  come. 

Romeo. 

Do  so,  and  bid  my  sweet  prepare  to  chide. 

Nurse. 

Here,  sir,  a  ring  she  bid  me  give  you,  sir  ; 
Hie  you,  make  haste,  for  it  grows  very  late. 


\Exit. 


Romeo. 

How  well  my  comfort  is  reviv'd  by  this  ! 

Friar    Laurence. 

Go  hence  ;   good  night ;  and  here  stands  all  you  state : 

Either  be  gone  before  the  watch  be  set. 

Or  by  the  break  of  day  disguis'd  from  hence, 

11 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Sojourn  in  Mantua  ;   I  '11  find  out  your  man, 
.  And  he  shall  signify  from  time  to  time 
Every  good  hap  to  you  that  chances  here. 
Give  me  thy  hand  ;   'tis  late  ;   farewell  ;  good  night. 

Rom  eo. 

But  what  a  joy  past  joy  calls  out  on  me. 

It  were  a  grief,  so  brief  to  part  with  thee. 

Farewell.  {^Exit  Romeo  L.  C. 

BND      OF     THIRD      ACT, 


78 


ACT     IV 

Scene  I.     Juliet's  chamber.       Tuesday — early  morning.      Romeo 
and  Juliet  discovered,  seated  on  couch,  C. 


Juliet. 

ILT  thou  be  gone  ?      It  is  not  yet  near  day  : 
It  was  the  nightingale,  and  not  the  lark. 
That  pierced  the  fearful  hollow  of  thine  ear  ; 
Nightly  she  sings  on  yond  pomegranate-tree. 
Believe  me,  love,  it  was  the  nightingale. 


Romeo. 

It  was  the  lark,  the  herald  of  the  morn. 

No  nightingale  ;  look,  love,  what  envious  streaks 

Do  lace  the  severing  clouds  in  yonder  east. 

Night's  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  jocund  dajr 

Stands  tiptoe  on  the  misty  mountain  tops. 

I  must  be  gone  and  live,  or  stay  and  die. 


79 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

Yon  light  is  not  day-light,  I  know  it,  I  : 
It  is  some  meteor  that  the  sun  exhales. 
To  be  to  thee  this  night  a  torch-bearer. 
And  light  thee  on  thy  way  to  Mantua. 
Therefore  stay  yet  ;   thou  need'st  not  to  begone. 

Romeo. 

Let  me  be  ta'en,  let  me  be  put  to  death, 
I  am  content  ;  so  thou  wilt  have  it  so. 
I  Ml  say  yon  gray  is  not  the  morning's  eye, 
'Tis  but  the  pale  reflex  of  Cynthia's  brow  ; 
Nor  that  is  not  the  lark  whose  notes  do  beat 
The  vaulty  heavens  so  high  above  our  heads. 
I  have  more  care  to  stay  than  will  to  go  ; 
Come,  death,  and  welcome  !  Juliet  wills  it  so. 
How  is  't,  my  soul  ?     Let  's  talk  ;  it  is  not  day. 

Juliet. 

\Ri5es  and  crones  to  window,  R.  i  E.,  opening  on  balcony. 
It  is,  it  is,  hie  hence,  be  gone,  away  ! 

It  is  the  lark  that  sings  so  out  of  tune,    \_Returns  to  end  of  couch. 
Straining  harsh  discords  and  unpleasant  sharps. 
Some  say  the  lark  makes  sweet  division  ; 
This  doth  not  so,  for  she  divideth  us. 
Some  say  the  lark  and  loathed  toad  changed  eyes  ; 
O,  now  I  would  they  had  changed  voices  too  ! 
Since  arm  from  arm  that  voice  doth  us  affray. 
Hunting  thee  hence  with  hunts-up  to  the  day, 
O,  now  be  gone  ;  more  light  and  light  it  grows.    \Jdovtng  to  R. 

80 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Romeo. 

More  light  and  light  :   more  dark  and  dark  our  woes!       \Rises. 
[Enter  Nurse  L.  U.  E. 

Nurse. 

Madam  ! 

Juliet. 

\_S tarts.']       Nurse  ? 

Nurse. 

Your  lady  mother  is  coming  to  your  chamber. 
The  day  is  broke  ;   be  wary,  look  about. 

Juliet. 

\_Looks  at  Romeo,  goes  to  window,  R.,  and  opens  /V.l     Then, 
window,  let  day  in,  and  let  life  out. 

Romeo. 

Farewell,  farewell  !   One  kiss,  and  I  '11  descend.     \_About  to  go. 

Juliet. 

Art  thou  gone  so  ?  [Romeo  returns. 

My  lord,  my  love,  my  friend! 
I  must  hear  from  thee  every  day  in  the  hour. 
For  in  a  minute  there  are  many  days. 
O,  by  this  count  I  shall  be  much  in  years 
Ere  I  again  behold  my  Romeo  ! 

Romeo. 

Farewell  ! 

I  will  omit  no  opportunity 

That  may  convey  my  greetings,  love,  to  thee. 

Juliet. 

O,  think' st  thou  we  shall  ever  meet  again  ? 

8i 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Romeo. 

I  doubt  it  not  ;  and  all  these  woes  shall  serve 
For  sweet  discourses  in  our  time  to  come. 

Juliet. 

\Draws  away.']      O  God,  I  have  an  ill-divining  soul. 
Either  my  eyesight  fails,  or  thou  look'st  pale. 

Rom  e  o. 

And  trust  me,  love,  in  my  eye  so  do  you.  \^Sbe  kisses  him. 

Dry  sorrow  drinks  our  blood.      Adieu,  adiea  !  ^Exit. 

Lady    Capulet. 

^Within,    L.  i  ES\      Ho,  daughter  '  arc  you  up  ? 

Juliet. 

\_At  window.'^      Who  is  't  that  calls  ?      Is  it  my  lady  mother  ? 
Is  she  not  down  so  late,  or  up  so  early  ? 

What  unaccustom'd  cause  procures  her  hither  ?      \Opens  door, 
\_Enter  Lady  Capulet,    L. 

Lady    Capulet. 

Why,  how  now,  Juliet  ! 

Juliet. 

Madam,  I  am  not  well. 

Lady     Capulet. 

Evermore  weeping  for  your  cousin's  death  ? 
What,  wilt  thou  wash  him  from  his  grave  with  tears  ? 
And  if  thou  couldst,  thou  couldst  not  make  him  live  ; 
Therefore  have  done  :   some  grief  shows  much  of  love, 

^Sits  on  couch,  C. 
But  much  of  grief  shows  still  some  want  of  wit. 

82 


J 


f    ^    rvv^o^  C 


:  v.i),\„..,,iv 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

\L.  of  table  L.   C]      Yet  let  me  weep  for  such  a  feeling  loss. 

Lady    Capulet. 

Well,  girl,  thou  weep'st  not  so  much  for  his  death 
As  that  the  villian  lives  which  slaughter' d  him. 

Juliet. 

What  villain,  madam  ? 

Lady     Capulet. 

That  same  villain,  Romeo. 

Juliet. 

Villain  and  he  be  many  miles  asunder. 

God  pardon  him  !      I  do,  with  all  my  heart ; 

And  yet  no  man  like  he  doth  grieve  my  heart. 

Lady     Capulet. 

That  is  because  the  traitor  murderer  lives. 
But  now  I  tell  you  joyful  tidings,  girl. 

Juliet. 

And  joy  comes  well  in  such  a  needy  time. 
What  are  they,  I  beseech  your  ladyship  ? 

Lady     Capulet. 

Well,  well,  thou  hast  a  careful  father,  child  ; 

One  who,  to  put  thee  from  thy  heaviness. 

Hath  sorted  out  a  sudden  day  of  joy 

That  thou  expect' St  not,  nor  I  look'd  not  for 

Early  next  Thursday  morn. 

The  gallant,  young  and  noble  gentleman, 

83 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

The  County  Paris,  at  Saint  Peter's  Church, 
Shall  happily  make  thee  there  a  joyful  bride. 

[Juliet  crosses  to  window  R. 

Juliet. 

Now  by  Saint  Peter's  Church  and  Peter  too 
He  shall  not  make  me  there  a  joyful  bride. 

[Lady  Capulet  rises. 

I  wonder  at  this  haste  ;  that  I  must  wed 
Ere  he  that  should  be  husband  comes  to  woo. 
I  pray  you  tell  my  lord  and  father.  Madam, 
I  will  not  marry  yet. 

Lady     Capulet. 

Here  comes  your  father  ;      [Looking  off  L. 

\_Enter  Capulet  and  Nurse,  L. 
Tell  him  so  yourself. 
And  see  how  he  will  take  it  at  your  hands. 

Capulet. 

How  now,  a  conduit,  girl  ?  what ;  still  in  tears  f 
Evermore  showering  ? — How  now,  wife 
Have  you  deliver' d  to  her  our  decree  ? 

Lady     Capulet. 

Ay,  sir  ;    but  she  will  none,  she  gives  you  thanks. 
I  would  the  fool  were  married  to  her  grave. 

[Crosses  to  L.  back  of  couch.      Nurse  moves  to  C.  above  her. 

Capulet. 
Soft  !   take  me  with  you,  take  me  with  you,  wife. 
How  !  will  she  none  ?  doth  she  not  give  us  thanks  ! 

84 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Is  she  not  proud  ?  doth  she  not  count  her  blest. 
Unworthy  as  she  is,  that  we  have  wrought 
So  worthy  a  gentleman  to  he  her  bridegroom  ? 

[Lady  Capulet  L.  ef  tahky  sits, 

Juliet. 

Not  proud  you  have,  but  thankful  that  you  have  ; 

Proud  can  I  never  be  of  what  I  hate  ; 

But  thankful  even  for  hate  that  is  meant  love. 

Capulet. 

How  now,  how  now,  chop-logic  !      What  is  this  ? 
*  Proud  '  and  '  I  thank  you  '    and  *  I  thank  you  not,' 
And  yet  *  not  proud  ; '    mistress  minion,  you. 
Thank  me  no  thankings,  nor  proud  me  no  prouds. 
But  fettle  your  iine  joints  'gainst  Thursday  next. 
To  go  with  Paris  to  Saint  Peter's  Church, 
Or  I  will  drag  thee  on  a  hurdle  thither. 

J  U  L  I  ET. 
Good  father,  I  beseech  you  on  my  knees. 
Hear  me  with  patience  but  to  speak  a  word. 

Capulet. 

Hang  thee,  young  baggage!  disobedient  wretch  ! 

I  tell  thee  what  :   get  thee  to  church  o'  Thursday, 

Or  never  after  look  me  in  the  face. 

Speak  not,  reply  not,  do  not  answer  me  ; 

My  fingers  itch.      Wife,  we  scarce  thought  us  blest 

That  God  had  lent  us  but  this  only  child  ; 

But  now  I  see  this  one  is  one  too  much. 

And  that  we  have  a  curse  in  having  her  ; 

Out  on  her  hilding  !      ^Crosses  to  R.  and  up  C. 

85 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Nurse. 

\^Meeting  him.']  God  in  heaven  bless  her  ! 

You  are  to  blame,  my  lord,   to  rate  her  so. 

C  A  PU  L  ET. 

And  why,  my  lady  wisdom  ?  hold  your  tongue,      [  Up  stage  C. 
Good  prudence  ;  smatter  with  your  gossips,  go.  [^Down  C. 

Nurse. 

I  speak  no  treason. 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 
O,  God  ye — god-den  ! 

Nurse. 

May  not  one  speak  ? 

C  A  PU  LET. 
Peace,  you  mumbling  fool  ! 
^Cresses  to  Lady  Capulet,  back  of  table,  L.  C. 

Lady     Capulet. 

r^/V^/.]      You  are  too  hot. 

Capulet. 

God's  bread  !  it  makes  me  mad:  [^Crosses back  to  R.  H. 

Day,  night,  hour,  tide,  time,  work,  play. 

Alone,  in  company,  still  my  care  hath  been 

To  have  her  matched  ;    and  having  now  provided 

A  gentleman  of  noble  parentage. 

Of  fair  demesnes,  youthful,  and  nobly  train' d. 

Proportion' d  as  one's  thoughts  would  wish  a  man, — 

And  then  to  have  a  wretched  puling  fool, 

A  whining  mammet,  in  her  fortune's  tender. 

To  answer  'I  '11  not  wed,  I  cannot  love, 

86 


>i 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

I  am  too  young  ;  I  pray  you  pardon  me  ? ' 

But,  an  you  will  not  wed,  I  '11  pardon  you  ; 

Graze  where  you  will,  you  shall  not  house  with  me  : 

Look  to  't,  think  on  't,  I  do  not  use  to  jest,  \^Moves  to  L. 

An  you  be  mine,  I  '11  give  you  to  my  friend  ; 

An  you  be  not,  hang,  beg,  starve,  die  in  the  streets. 

For,  by  my  soul,  I  '11  ne'er  acknowledge  thee.     ^Exit  L.  j  E. 

Juliet. 

rC]      Is  there  no  pity  sitting  in  the  clouds. 
That  sees  into  the  bottom  of  my  grief? 

[Lady  Capulet  moves  to  L.,  as  if  to  follow  Capulet. 
O,  sweet  my  mother,  cast  me  not  away  ! 
Delay  this  marriage  for  a  month,  a  week ; 
Or,  if  you  do  not,  make  the  bridal  bed 
In  that  dim  monument  where  Tybalt  lies. 

[Nurse  comes  slowly  down  R.   C. 

Lady  Capulet. 

Talk  not  to  me,  for  I  '11  not  speak  a  word  j 

Do  as  thou  wilt,  for  I  have  done  with  thee.  \Exit. 

Juliet. 

[Sinking  Jown."]      O  God  !      [Nurse  ^^^j  to  her."]      O  nurse, 
how  shall  this  be  prevented  ? 

Comfort  me,  counsel  mc.  [Nurse  belj>s  her  to  couch. 

Alack,  alack,  that  heaven  should  practice  strategems 

Upon  so  soft  a  subject  as  myself! 

What  say' St  thou  ?  hast  thou  not  a  word  of  joy  } 

Some  comfort,  nurse. 

87 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Nurse. 

Faith,  here  'tis.      Romeo 
Is  banish'd,  and  all  the   world  to  nothing 
That  he  dares  ne'er  come  back  to  challenge  you  ; 
Or,  if  he  do,  it  needs  must  be  by  stealth. 
Then,  since  the  case  so  stands  as  now  it  doth, 
I  think  it  best  you  married  with  the  County. 
Oh,  he  's  a  gallant  gentleman. 
Romeo  's  a  dish-clout  to  him;  an  eagle,  madam. 
Hath  not  so  green,  so  quick,  so  fair  an  eye 
As  Paris  hath.      Beshrew  my  very  heart, 
I  think  you  are  happy  in  this  second  match. 
For  it  excels  your  first ;   or  if  it  did  not 
Your  first  is  dead,  or  'twere  as  good  he  were. 

J  U  L  I  ET. 

\  Seated  on  touch.']      Speakest  thou  from  thy  heart? 

Nurse. 

[Standing  R.  of  her."]      And  from  my  soul  too  ; 
Or  else  beshrew  them  both. 

Juliet. 
Amen  ! 

Nurse. 

What  ? 

Juliet. 

Well,  thou  hast  comforted  me  marvellous  much, 

[Nurse  goes   towards  her.     Juliet  draws   back;    then 
goes  to  R.  H. 
Go  in,  and  tell  my  lady  I  am  gone, 

88 


ROMEO    A7id    JULIET 

Having  displeased  my  father,  to   Laurence's  cell. 
To  make  confession  and  to  be  absolved. 

Nurse. 

Marry,  I  will  ;   and  this  is  wisely  done.  ^Exit  L. 

J  U  L  I  E  T. 

[^.   C]  O  most  wicked  fiend  ! 

Is  it  more  sin  to  wish  me  thus  foresworn. 
Or  to  dispraise  my  lord  with  that  same  tongue 
Which  she  hath  prais'd  him  with  above  compare 
So  many  thousand  times  ?     Go,  counsellor  ; 
Thou  and  my  bosom  henceforth  shall  be  twain 
I  '11  to  the  friar,  to  know  his  remedy  : 

[Goes  up  C.  back  of  table  ;  takes  up  dagger. 
If  all  else  fail,  myself  have  power  to  die.  \_Exit  L. 

Scene  II. — Friar  Laurence's  Cell.  Tuesday  morning.  Friar 
Laurence  and  Paris  discovered.  Friar  Laurence  seated 
R.   C.  ,•  Paris  standing  C. 

Friar     Laurence. 

On  Thursday,  sir  ?    the  time  is  very  short. 

Paris. 

My  father  Capulet  will  have  it  so  ; 

And  I  am  nothing  slow  to  slack  his  haste. 

Friar     Laurence. 

You  say  you  do  not  know  the  lady's  mind. 
Uneven  is  the  course,  I  like  it  not. 

89 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Paris. 

Immoderately  she  weeps   for  Tybalt's  death. 
And  therefore  have  I  little  talk'd  of  love  ; 
For  Venus  smiles  not  in  a  house  of  tears. 
Now,  sir,  her  father  counts  it  dangerous 
That  she  doth  give  her  sorrow  so  much  sway. 
And  in  his  wisdom  hastes  our  marriage. 
To  stop  the  inundation  of  her  tears. 
Now  do  you  know  the  reason  of  this  haste. 

Friar     Laurence. 

\Aside.'\     I  would  I  knew  not  why  it  should  be  slow'd. 

\_Enter  Juliet  through  gate,  L.  C.      Friar  Laurence 
sees  her  and  rises. 

Pa  r  I  s. 

\Turns,  on  Friar  Laurence's  action,  and  sees  herJ\      Happily 
met,  my  lady  and  my  wife. 

Juliet. 

That  may  be,  sir,  when  I  may  be  a  wife. 

Paris. 

That  may  be,  must  be,  love,  on  Thursday  next. 

Juliet. 

What  must  be  shall  be. 

Paris. 

Come  vou  to  make  confession  to  this  father  ? 

Juliet. 

To  answer  that  I  should  confess  to  you. 

90 


ROMEO     nnd    JULIET 
Paris. 

Poor  soul,  thy  face  is  much  abused  with  tears, 

Juliet. 

The  tears  have  got  small  victory  by  that ; 
For  it  was  bad  enough  before  their  spite. 

Paris. 

Thy  face  is  mine  and  thou  hast  slandered  it. 

Juliet. 

It  may  be  so,  for  it  is  not  mine  own. 
Are  you  at  leisure,  holy  father,  now. 
Or  shall  I  come  to  you  at  evening  mass  ? 

Friar   Laurence. 

My  leisure  serves  me,  pensive  daughter,  now. 
My  lord,  we  must  entreat  the  time  alone. 

Paris. 

[Juliet  crosses  to  R.      Paris  goes  to  her  L. 
God  shield  I  should  disturb  devotion  ! 
Juliet,  on  Thursday  early  will  I  rouse  ye  : 
Till  then,  adieu,  and  keep  this  holy  kiss. 

^Exit  through  gate  L.   C. 

[Friar  Laurence  eomes  to  Juliet  to  support  her. 

Juliet. 

O,   shut    the    door  !     ^R.  up   to   chair. '^    and  when  thou  hast 
done  so. 

Come  weep  with  me  ;   past  hope,  past  cure,  past  help  ! 
[/»  chair  R.  C. 

9^ 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Friar    Laurence. 

\Having  closed  door,  returns  to  Juliet. 
Ah,  Juliet,  I  already  know  thy  grief. 

Juliet. 

Tell  me  not.  Friar,  that  thou  hear'st  of  this. 

Unless  thou  tell  me  how  I  may  prevent  it  : 

If  in  thy  wisdom  thou  canst  give  no  help. 

Do  thou  but  call  my  resolution  wise. 

And  with  this  knife  I  '11  help  it  presently. 

God  join'd  my  heart  and  Romeo's,  thou  our  hands; 

And  ere  this  hand,  by  thee  to  Romeo  seal'd. 

Shall  be  the  label  to  another  deed. 

Or  my  true  heart  with  treacherous  revolt 

Turn  to  another,  this  shall  slay  them  both  ; 

Therefore,  out  of  thy  long-experienc'd  time. 

Give  me  some  present  counsel  ;   or,  behold, 

'Twixt  my  extremes  and  me  this  bloody  knife 

Shall  play  the  umpire. 

Be  not  so  long  to  speak  ;  I  long  to  die. 

If  what  thou  speak'st  speak  not  of  remedy. 

Friar    Laurence. 

Hold,  daughter  !      I  do  spy  a  kind  of  hope. 
Which  craves  as  desperate  an  execution 
As  that  is  desperate  which  we  would  prevent. 
If,  rather  than  to  marry  County  Paris, 
Thou  hast  the  strength  of  will  to  slay  thyself. 
Then  is  it  likely  thou  wilt  undertake 
A  thing  like  death  to  chide  away  this  shame  ; 
And,  if  thou  dar'st,  I  '11  give  thee  remedy. 

92 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Juliet. 

O,  bid  me  leap,  rather  than  marry  Paris, 

From  off  the  battlements  of  yonder  tower  ; 

Or  bid  me  go  into  a  new-made  grave 

And  hide  me  with  a  dead  man  in  his  shroud  ; 

Things  that,  to  hear  them  told,  have  made  me  tremble  ; 

And  I  will  do  it  without  fear  or  doubt. 

To  live  an  unstain'd  wife  to  my  sweet  love. 

Friar     Laurence. 

Hold,  then  ;   go  home,  be  merry,  give  consent 
To  marry  Paris.      \_Getti7ig  vial  from   cabinet  at  upper  end  of 
desk.      Down  L.  ^Juliet.]      Wednesday  is  to-morrow  ; 
To-morrow  night  look  that  thou  lie  alone  ; 
Let  not  thy  nurse  lie  with  thee  in  thy  chamber. 
Take  out  this  vial,  being  then  in  bed. 
And  this  distilled  liquor  drink  thou  off; 
When  presently  through  all  thy  veins  shall  run 
A  cold  and  drowsy  humor,  for  no  pulse 
Shall  keep  his  native  progress,  but  surcease. 
No  warmth,  no  breath,  shall  testify  thou  livest ; 
And  in  this  borrowed  likeness  of  shrunk  death 
Thou  shalt  continue  two  and  forty  hours. 
And  then  awake  as  from  a  pleasant  sleep. 
Now,  when  the  bridegroom  in  the  morning  comes 
To  rouse  thee  from  thy  bed,  there  art  thou  dead  : 
Then,  as  the  manner  of  our  country  is. 
In  thy  best  robes  uncover' d  on  the  bier 
Thou  shalt  be  borne  to  that  same  ancient  vault 
Where  all  the  kindred  of  the  Capulets  lie. 

93 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Jn  the  meantime,  against  thou  shalt  awake. 
Shall  Romeo  by  my  letters  know  our  drift. 
And  hither  shall  he  come  ;   and  he  and  I 
Will  watch  thy  waking,  and  that  very  night 
Shall  Romeo  bear  thee  hence  to  Mantua. 
And  this  shall  free  thee  from  this  present  shame. 
If  no  inconstant  toy  nor  womanish  fear 
Abate  thy  valour  in  the  acting  it. 

Juliet. 

[^w/.]      Give  me,  give  me  !      O,  tell  me  not  of  fear  ! 

Friar     Laurence. 

Hold  ;   get  you  gone,  be  "trong  and  prosperous 
In  this  resolve  :      I  '11  send  a  friar  with  speed 
To  Mantua,  with  my  letters  to  thy  lord. 

Juliet. 

Love  give  me  strength  !  and  strength  shall  help  afford. 
Farewell,  dear  father  ! 

[^Crosses  to  him  and  exit  through  gate  L.  C. 

Scene  III. —  Tuesday  evening.      Nurse  and  Capulet  discovered, 
folhwed  by  Lady  Capulet,  who  enters  L. 

Capulet. 

What,  is  my  daughter  gone  to  Friar  Laurence  ? 

Nurse. 

Ay,  forsooth. 

Capulet, 

Well,  he  may  chance  to  do  some  good  on  her  ; 
A  peevish,  self-will'd  simpleness  it  is. 

[Lady  Capulet  seated  L.   C. 

94 


^» 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Nurse. 
See  !  here  she  comes  from  shrift,  with  merry  look. 
\_Enter  Juliet,  L.  i  E.,  bows  to  Lady  Capulet,  goes  to  her 
father;  low   courtsey. 

Capulet. 

How,  now,  my  headstrong  !     Where  have  you  been  gadding  ? 

Juliet. 

Where  I  have  learned  me  to  repent  the  sin 

Of  disobedient  opposition 

To  you  and  your  behests,  and  am  enjoin'd 

By  holy  Laurence  to  fall  prostrate  here. 

And  beg  your  pardon.      Pardon  J  beseech  you  ! 

Henceforward  I  am  ever  rul'd  by  you. 

Capulet. 

\To  Lady  Capulet,  who  n'ses.'^    Send  for  the  County  ;  go  tell 

him  of  this. 
I  '11  have  this  knot  knit  up  to-morrow  morning. 
Now,  afore  God  !  this  reverend  holy  friar. 
All  our  whole  city  is  much  bound  to  him. 

Juliet. 

[To  Nurse,  R.  of  her.'\      Nurse,  will  you    go    with    me  into 

my    closet. 
To  help  me  sort  such  needful  ornaments 
As  you  think  fit  to  furnish  me  to-morrow  I 

Lady     Capulet. 
No,  not  till  Thursday  ;  there  is  time  enough. 

95 


ROMEO     and    JU  LIET 

C  A  P  U  L  E  T. 
Go,  nurse,  go  with  her  ;   we  '11  to  church  to-morrow. 

\_Exeunt  Nurse  and  Juliet,    L. 

Lady    Capulet. 

We  shall  be  short  in  our  provision  ; 
'Tis  now  near  night. 

Capulet. 
TNear  door,    L.  l  EJ\      Tush,  I  will  stir  about. 
And  all  things  shall  be  well,  I  warrant  thee,  wife. 
Go  thou  to  Juliet,  help  to  deck  up  her  ; 
I  '11  not  to  bed  to-night  ;  let  me  alone. 

I  '11  play  the  housewife  for  this  once.  \Exeunt  L.  j  E. 

\_Re-enter  Juliet  and  Nurse,    C.  from   L. 

Juliet. 

\_Down  R.   C]      Ay,  those  attires  are  best  ;  but,  gentle  nurse, 
I  pray  thee,  leave  me  to  myself  to-night ; 

[Nurse  closes  curtains  of  window,  R. 
For  I  have  need  of  many  orisons 
To  move  the  heavens  to  smile  upon  my  state. 
Which,  well  thou  know'st,  is  cross  and  full  of  sin. 

^Re-enter  Lady  Capulet,    L.  I  E* 

Lady  Capulet. 

What,  are  you  busy,  ho  ?      Need  you  my  help  ? 

Juliet. 
No,  madam  ;   we  have  cull'd  such  necessaries 
As  are  behoveful  for  our  state  to-morrow  ; 
So  please  you,  let  me  now  be  left  alone, 

96 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

And  let  the  nurse  this  night  sit  up  with  you  ; 
For,  I  am  sure,  you  have  your  hands  full  all 
In  this  so  sudden  business. 

Lady  Capulet. 

\Goes  to  Juliet,   C,  giving  her  a  cold  kiss  on  her  forehead. 
Good  night  ; 
Get  thee  to  bed  and  rest,  for  thou  hast  need. 

^Exeunt  Lady  Capulet  and  Nurse,  L.  r  E. 

Juliet. 

[C]      Farewell  !      God  knows  when  we  shall  meet  again. 

I  have  a  faint  cold  fear  thrills  through  mv  veins. 

That  almost  freezes  up  the  heat  of  life ; 

I  '11  call  them  back  again  to  comfort  me.  \Going  to  door. 

Nurse  ! — What  should  she  do  here  ? 

My  dismal  scene  I  needs  must  act  alone. — 

Come,  vial.  \To    table y   L.   C. 

What  if  this  mixture  do  not  work  at  all  ? 

Shall  I  be  married,  then,  to-morrow  morning  ? 

No,  no  !     This  shall  forbid  it. — Lie  thou  there. 

[^Laying  dozvn  a  dagger  on  table. 
What  if  it  be  a  poison,  which  the  friar 
Subtly  hath  minister' d  to  have  me  dead. 
Lest  in  this  marriage  he  should  be  dishonor'd. 
Because  he  married  me  before  to  Romeo  } 
I  fear  it  is  ;  and  yet,  methinks,  it  should  not. 
For  he  hath  still  been  tried  a  holy  man. 
How  if,  when  I  am  laid  into  the  tomb, 
I  wake  before  the  time  that  Romeo 
Come  to  redeem  me  ?      There  's  a  fearful  point  1 

97 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Shall  1  not  then  be  stifled  in  the  vauh. 

To  whose  foul  mouth  no  healthsome  air  breathes  in. 

And  there  die  strangled  ere  my  Romeo  comes  ? 

Or,  if  I  live,  is  it  not  very  like. 

The  horrible  conceit  of  death  and  night. 

Together  with  the  terror  of  the  place. 

Where  for  these  many  hundred  years  the  bones 

Of  all  my  buried  ancestors  are  pack'd  ; 

Where  bloody  Tybalt,  yet  but  green  in  earth. 

Lies  festering  in  his  shroud  ;   where,  as  they  say. 

At  some  hours  in  the  night  spirits  resort  ; — 

Alack,  alack,  is  it  not  like  that  I, 

So  early  waking,  what  with  loathsome  smells 

And  shrieks  like  mandrakes'  torn  out  of  the  earth. 

That  living  mortals  hearing  them  run  mad. 

O,  if  I  wake,  shall  I  not  be  distraught. 

Environed  vdth  all  these  hideous  fears. 

And  madly  play  with  my  forefathers'  joints  ; 

And  pluck  the  mangled  Tybalt  from  his  shroud  ; 

And,  in  this  rage,  with  some  great  kinsman's  bone. 

As  with  a  club,  dash  out  my  desperate  brains  ? 

O,  look  !  methinks  I  see  my  cousin's  ghost 

Seeking  out  Romeo; — Stay,  Tybalt,  stay  ! — 

\Goes  to  window,   R. 
Romeo,  I  come  !      This  do  I  drink  to  thee. 

[She  falls  on  the  stage,    C. 


98 


I 


ACT    V 

Scene   I.  — Mantua.        A    Street.       Door    L.    F.        JVednesday 
Evening.       Stone  seat  R.  C. 

\Enter  Romeo  R.  J  E. 

Romeo. 

F  I   MAY  trust  the  flattering  truth  of  sleep. 
My  dreams  presage  some  joyful  news  at  hand. 
My  bosom's  lord  sits  lightly  in  his  throne  ; 
And  all  this  day  an  unaccustom'd  spirit 
Lifts    me    above    the    ground    with    cheerful 

thoughts. 
I  dreamt  my  lady  came  and  found  me  dead. 

And  breath' d  such  life  with  kisses  in  my  lips. 

That  I  reviv'd,  and  was  an  emperor. 

Air  me  !   how  sweet  is  love  itself  possess' d. 

When  but  love's  shadows  are  so  rich  in  joy  ! 

News  from  Verona  !  [^Enter  Balthasar,  L.  I  E. 

How  now,  Balthasar  ! 

Dost  thou  not  bring  me  letters  from  the  friar  ? 

How  doth  my  lady  ?     Is  my  father  well  ? 

How  fares  my  Juliet  ?  that  I  ask  again  ; 

For  nothing  can  be  ill,  if  she  be  well. 

99 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Balthasar. 
Then  she  is  well,  and  nothing  can  be  ill ; 
Her  body  sleeps  in   Capels'  monument. 
And  her  immortal  part  with  angels  lives. 
I  saw  her  laid  low  in  her  kindred's  vault. 
And  presently  took  post  to  tell  it  you. 
O,  pardon  me  for  bringing  these  ill  news. 
Since  you  did  leave  it  for  my  office,  sir. 

Romeo. 

Is  it  e'en  so  ?   then  I  defy  you,  stars  ! — 

Thou  know' St  my  lodging  ;  get  me  ink  and  paper. 

And  hire  post-horses  ;  I  will  hence  to-night. 

Baltkasar. 

I  do  beseech  you,  sir,  have  patience  ; 

Your  looks  are  pale  and  wild,  and  do  import 

Some  misadventure. 

Romeo. 

Tush,  thou  art  deceiv'd. 
Leave  me,  and  do  the  thing  I  bid  thee  do. 

[Balthasar  starts  to  go  R.  I  E, 
Hast  thou  no  letters  to  me  from  the  friar  ? 

Balthasar. 

No,  my  good  lord. 

Romeo. 

No  matter  ;   get  thee  gone. 
And  hire  those  horses  ;   I  '11  be  with  thee   straight. 

\_Exit  Balthasar  R.  i  E. 
Well,  Juliet,  I  will  lie  with  thee  to-night. 

lOO 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Let  's  see  for  means.      O  mischief,  thou  art  swift 

To  enter  in  the  thoughts  of  desperate  men  ! 

I  do  remember  an  apothecary, — 

And  hereabouts  he  dwells, — which  late  I  noted 

In  tatter' d  weeds,  with  overwhelming  brows. 

Culling  of  simples  ;  meagre  were  his  looks. 

Sharp  misery  had  worn  him  to  the  bones  ; 

Noting  this  penury,  to  myself  I  said. 

An  if  a  man  did  need  a  poison  now. 

Whose  sale  is  present  death  in  Mantua, 

Here  lives  a  catifF  wretch  would  sell  it  him, 

O,  this  same  thought  did  but  forerun  my  need. 

And  this  same  needy  man  must  sell  it  me  ! 

As  I  remember,  this  should  be  the  house. 

Being  holiday,  the  beggar's  shop  is  shut. 

What,  ho  !  apothecary  ?  \_Knocks  at  door. 

Apothecary. 

\In  doorway.  "^  Who  calls  so  loud  ? 

Romeo. 

Come  hither,  man.    \^Enter  Apothecary.]    I  see  that  thou  art 
poor: 

Hold,  there  is  forty  ducats  ;   let  me  have 
A  dram  of  poison,  such  soon-speeding  gear 
As  will  disperse  itself  through  all  the  veins 
That  the  life-weary  taker  may  fall  dead. 

Apothecary. 

Such  mortal  drugs  I  have  ;  but  Mantua's  law 
Is  death  to  any  he  that  utters  them. 

lOI 


ROM  EO     and    J  U  LI  ET 
Romeo. 

Art  thou  so  bare  and  full  o^  wretchedness. 
And  fear' St  to  die  ?  famine  is  in  thy  cheeks ; 
Need  and  oppression  starveth  in  thine  eyes  ; 
Contempt  and  beggary  hang  upon  thy  back. 
The  world  is  not  thy  friend,  nor  the  world's  law; 
The  world  affords  no  law  to  make  thee  rich  ; 
Then  be  not  poor,  but  break  it,  and  take  this. 

Apothecary. 

My  poverty,  but  not  my  will,  consents. 

Romeo. 

I  pay  thy  poverty  and  not  thy  will. 

[Apothecary  exit  and  re-enters. 

Apothecary. 

Put  this  in  any  liquid  thing  you  will. 

And  drink  it  off;   and,  if  you  had  the  strength 

Of  twenty  men,  it  would  dispatch  you  straight. 

Romeo. 

There  is  thy  gold,  worse  poison  to  men's  souls. 

Doing  more  murthers  in  this  loathsome  world. 

Than  these  poor  compounds  that  thou  mayst  not  sell  : 

I  sell  thee  poison,  thou  hast  sold  me  none. 

[Apothecary  moves  away. 

Farewell;  buy  food,  and  get  thyself  in  flesh. 

[Exit  Apothecary. 

Come,  cordial  and  not  poison,  go  with  me 

To  Juliet's  grave  ;  for  there  must  I  use  th«e. 

\_Exit  R.  I  E. 

I02 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Scene  II. — A   Churchyard;   in  it  a   tomb  belonging  to  the  Capu- 
LETs.       Wednesday,  near  midnight, 
\_Enter  Friar  Laurence  R.  i  E.,  goes  toward  tomb,  L.  C. 

Friar  John. 

\Within.'\      Holy  Franciscan  friar  !  brother,  ho  ! 

[Friar   Laurence  stops  and  turns. 
\Enter  Friar  John  R.  i  E. 

Friar    Laurence. 

This  same  should  be  the  voice  of  Friar  John. 
Welcome  from  Mantua  ;  what  says  Romeo  ? 
Or,  if  his  mind  be  writ,  give  me  his  letter. 

Friar  John. 

Going  to  find  a  bare-foot  brother  out. 
One  of  our  order,  to  associate  me. 
Here  in  this  city  visiting  the  sick. 
And  finding  him, — the  searchers  of  the  town. 
Suspecting  that  we  both  were  in  a  house 
Where  the  infectious  pestilence  did  reign, 
SeaI'd  up  the  doors,  and  would  not  let  us  forth; 
So  that  my  speed  to  Mantua  there  was  stay'd. 

Friar    Laurence. 

Who  bare  my  letter,  then,  to  Romeo  ? 

Friar  John. 

I  could  not  send  it, — here  it  is  again, — 
Nor  get  a  messenger  to  bring  it  thee. 
So  fearfUl  were  they  of  infection. 

103 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Friar  Laurence. 

Unhappy  fortune  !  by  my  brotherhood. 
The  letter  was  not  nice,  but  full  of  charge 
Of  dear  import,  and  the  neglecting  it 
May  do  much  danger.      Friar  John,  go  hence  ; 
Get  me  an  iron  crow,  and  bring  it  straight 
Unto  my  cell. 

Friar  John. 

Brother,  I  '11  go  and  bring  it  thee.  \Exit  R.  l  E. 

Friar     Laurence. 
Within  this  three  hours  will  fair  Juliet  wake. 
She  will  beshrew  me  much  that  Romeo 
Hath  had  no  notice  of  these  accidents. 
But  I  will  write  again  to  Mantua, 
And  keep  her  at  my  cell  till  Romeo  come  : 
Poor  living  corpse,  closed  in  a  dead  man's  tomb  ! 

[Exit  R.  I  E. 
\_E titer  Paris,  and  his  Page  hearing  Jiowers  and  a  torch, 
L.  I  E. 

Paris. 

Give  me  thy  torch,  bov;  hence,  and  stand  aloof: 

Yet  put  it  out,  for  I  would  not  be  seen. 

Under  yond  yew-trees  lay  thee  all  along,  [Pointing  off  R. 

Holding  thine  ear  close  to  the  hollow  ground  ; 

So  shall  no  foot  upon  the  churchyard  tread. 

Being  loose,  unfirm,  with  digging  up  of  graves. 

But  thou  shalt  hear  it  :   whistle  then  to  me. 

As  signal  that  thou  hear'st  something  approach. 

Give  me  those  flowers.      Do  as  I  bid  thee,  go. 

[Takes  Jiowers  and  turns  to  tomb, 

104 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 
Page. 

\Cro5ses  to  R.,  then  pauses.      Jside.'^      1   am  almost  afraid  to 
stand  alone 

Here  in  the  churchyard  ;  yet  I  will  adventure.      \^Exit  R.  i  E. 

Paris. 

\_Before  tomi>.']      Sweet  flower,  with   flowers   thy   bridal  bed  1 
strew. 

O  woe  !  thy  canopy  is  dust  and  stones. 
The  obsequies  that  I  for  thee  will  keep 
Nightly  shall   be  to  strew  thy  grave  and  weep. 

[7'/^^  Pag^  whistles  R. 
The  boy  gives  warning  something  doth  approach. 
What  cursed  foot  wanders  this  way  to-night  ? 

\_Retires  L.  j  E. 
[Enter  Romeo,  and  Balthasar    with  a  torch,  mattock^ 
etc.,  R.  I  E. 

Romeo. 

Give  me  the  wrenching  iron. 

Hold,  take  this  letter  ;  early  in  the  morning 

See  thou  deliver  it  to  my  lord  and  father. 

Upon  thy  life,  I  charge  thee, 

Whate'er  thou  hear'st  or  seest,  stand  all  aloof. 

And  do  not  interrupt  me  in  my  course. 

Why  I  descend  into  this  bed  of  death 

Is  partly  to  behold  my  lady's  face. 

But  chiefly  to  take  thence  from  her  dead  finger 

A  precious  ring,  a  ring  that  I  must  use 

In  dear  employment.      Therefore  hence,  be  gone. 

But  if  thou,  jealous,  dost  return  to  pry 

IOC 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

In  what  I  farther  shall  intend  to  do. 

By  heaven,  I  will  tear  thee  joint  by  joint 

And  strew  this  hungry  churchyard  with  thy  limbs. 

Balthasar. 

I  will  be  gone,  sir,  and  not  trouble  you. 

Romeo. 

So  shalt  thou  show  me  friendship.      Take  thou  that : 

\Gives  him  a  purse. 
Live  and  be  prosperous  ;  and  farewell,  good  fellow. 

\Turns  away, 

Balthasar. 

\^Aside.'^      For  all  this  same  I  '11  hide  me  here  about. 

His  looks  I  fear,  and  his  intents  I  doubt.  \Exit  R.  i  E. 

Romeo. 

\Forcing  open  tomb.'\      Thou  detestable   maw,  thou   womb   of 
death. 

Gorged  with  the  dearest  morsel  of  the  earth. 

Thus  I  enforce  thy  rotten  jaws  to  open. 

And  in  despite  I  '11  cram  thee  with  more  food.      \Opens  tomb. 

Paris. 

\Enters  L.  l  E.      jidvancing.'^     Stop  thy  unhallow'd  toil,  vile 
Montague  ! 

Can  vengeance  be  pursued  fiirther  than  death  } 
Condemned  villain,  I  do  apprehend  thee  : 
Obey,  and  go  with  me;  for  thou  must  die. 

Romeo. 

I  must  indeed,  and  therefore  came  I  hither. 
Good  gentle  youth,  tempt  not  a  desperate  man  ; 

I  06 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Fly  hence  and  leave  me  :   I  beseech  thee,  youth. 

Put  not  another  sin  upon  my  head. 

By  urging  me  to  fury  ;   O,  be  gone  ! 

By  heaven,  I  love  thee  better  than  myself. 

For  I  come  hither  arm'd  against  myself. 

Stay  not,  be  gone;  live,  and  hereafter  say, 

A  madman's  mercy  bade  thee  run  away. 

Paris. 

I  do  defy  thy  conjurations. 

And  apprehend  thee  for  a  felon  here  ! 

[^Advancing  And  seizing  him, 

Romeo. 

Wilt  thou  provoke  me  ?   then  have  at  thee,  boy  ! 

\They  fight  with  daggers.      Romeo  stabs  Paris, 

Paris. 

O,  I  am  slain  !      \Fans.'\      If  thou  be  merciful. 
Open  the  tomb,  lay  me  w^ith  Juliet.       ^Dies. 

Romeo. 

\Back  c/' Paris.]    In  faith,  I  will. — Let  me  peruse  this  face. 

Mercutio's  kinsman,  noble  County  Paris  ! 

One  writ  with  me  in  sour  misfortune's  book  ! 

What  said  my  man  when  my  betossed  soul 

Did  not  attend  him  as  we  rode  ?      I  think 

He  told  me  Paris  should  have  married  Juliet. 

Said  he  not  so  ?     Or  did  I  dream  it  so  ? 

O,  give  me  thy  hand  ! 

I  '11  bury  thee  in  a  triumphant  grave. 

107 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Scene  III. — Interior  of  the  tomb.  Juliet  lying  on  the  bier,  C. 
Romeo  discovered,  bearing  Paris' s  body.  Places  it  up  L. 
C. ,  then  goes  to  C. ,  back  of  bier. 

Romeo. 

O  Tnv  love  !   mv  wife  ! 
Death,  that  hath  suck'd  the  honey  of  thy  breath 
Hath  had  no  power  yet  upon  thy  beauty  : 
Thou  art  not  conquer' d  ;  beauty's  ensign  yet 
Is  crimson  in  thy  lips  and  in  thy  cheeks. 
And  death's  pale  flag  is  not  advanced  there. 

Ah,  dear  Juliet, 
Why  art  thou  so  fair  ? — O,  here. 
Will  I  set  up  my  everlasting  rest. 
And  shake  the  yoke  of  inauspicious  stars 
From  this  w^orld-wearied  flesh. — Eyes,  look  your  last  1 
Arms,  take  your  last  embrace  ?  and,  lips,  O  you 
The  doors  of  breath,  seal  with  a  righteous  kiss 
A  dateless  bargain  to  engrossing  death  ! 
Come,  bitter  conduct,  come,  unsavoury  guide  ! 

\_Comes  in  front  of  bier. 
Thou  desperate  pilot,  now  at  once  run  on 
The  dashing  rocks  thy  sea-sick  weary  bark  ! 
Here  's  to  my  love  !      \_Drinhs.'\     O  true  apothecary  ! 
Thy  drugs  are  quick. — Thus  with  a  kiss  I  die.      \pies. 
\Enter  Friar  Laurence,  down  steps  L.  H.,  carrying  a  lantern. 

Friar     Laurence. 

Saint  Francis  be  my  speed  !  how  oft  to-night 

Have  my  old  feet  stumbled  at  graves  ! — Who  's  there? 

[Crosses  to   C 

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ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Romeo  !   O,  pale  !   Who  else  ?  What,  Paris, too  ?  \Goes  up  L.  C. 
And  steep'd  in  blood  ?      Ah,  what  an  unkind  hour 
Is  guilty  of  this  lamentable  chance  ! 

^P/aces  lantern  on  stage  by  Paris,  and  returns  /(?  Juliet. 

The  lady  stirs. 

[Juliet  wakes. 
Juliet. 

0  comfortable  friar  !      Where  is  my  lord  ? 

1  do  remember  well  where  I  should  be, 

\Sitting  up.~^      And  there  I  am.      Where  is  my  Romeo  ? 

Friar     Laurence. 
[Z.  (?/' Juliet.]    I  hear  some  noise.    Lady,  come  from  that  nest 
Of  death,  contagion  and  unnatural  sleep; 
A  greater  power  than  we  can  contradict 
Hath  twarted  our  intents.      Come,  come  away. 
Thy  husband  in  thy  bosom  there  lies  dead  ; 

\_Points  to  Romeo  in  front  of  tier. 
And  Paris  too.      Come,  I  '11  dispose  of  thee 
Among  a  sisterhood  of  holy  nuns  : 
Stay  not  to  question,  for  the  watch  is  coming  ; 

\_Starts  towards  arch  L.  2  E. 
Come,  go,  good  Juliet.    ^Returns  to  her."^    I  dare  no  longer  stay. 

Juliet. 

Go,  get  thee  hence,  ^or  I  will  not  away. 

\^Exit  Friar  Laurence  up  stairs  D.  H. 
[Juliet  kisses  Romeo. J      Thy  lips  are  warm. 

[  Murmurs,  then  words,  heard  within. 

Watch. 

^Within.'\      Lead,  boy  ;   which  way  } 
109 


ROMEO     and    JULIET 

Balthasar. 

XWithinr^    This  is  the  place — there,  where  the  torch  doth  burn. 

Juliet. 

Yea,  noise  ?   then  I  '11  be  brief.       O  happy  dagger  ! 

\Snatching  Romeo's  dagger. 
This  is  thy  sheath.    \Stabs  herself. '\   There  rust,  and  let  me  die. 

\Falls  on  Romeo's  body  and  dies. 
[Friar  Laurence  enters  L.  2  and  stands  in  archway. 


7^  /j  /^  gl^u^^pf^^^^t^^  ^^-^ 


•-^/^t^  J^.  ^ 


// 


y^^^f^^^ 


END      OF      THE      PLAY. 
I  lO 


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